HPDBZ and the Sorcerers' Stone
by KlosetAuthor
Summary: What if Harry hadn't been given to the Dursleys, but had been taken to live with the Worlds Strongest Martial Artist. I saw a few crossovers with this idea, but most were poorly written or abandoned. I thought there was potential, so here's my attempt.
1. The Most Protected Place on Earth

Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone 

Disclaimer: Harry Potter was created by J.K. Rowling & Dragon Ball Z was created by Akira Toriyama. All rights, characters & likenesses are owned by them and several National and International companies including but not limited to Warner Brothers and Shonen Jump. This story is written without their consent and is not intended for commercial gain. Anyone who has received any money for the distribution and/or reproduction of this story has done so without the knowledge or consent of this author. As this story is a retelling of the Harry Potter story in what will hopefully be a new and exciting way there will be some places where the novels, anime, movies and/or manga will be quoted and/or paraphrased without annotation.

* * *

Chapter 1: The Most Protected Place in the World

* * *

A giant of a man appeared next to the smoldering ruins of what had once been a humble home. The ruined house looked to have been the site of a small explosion, which had scattered pieces of the home all over the small yard and caused the roof to cave in. The man twice as tall as a normal man and easily five times as wide had to scrunch down and squeeze through the large opening in the still standing walls that was where the front door had once been. He could be seen only minutes later gently cradling the bodies of a young man and woman in his trashcan sized hands as he laid them on a relatively clear portion of the lawn outside. 

James and Lilly Potter looked ordinary enough. And even in death they looked to be only sleeping at first glance. But if you had come up to Rubeus Hagrid while he was laying their bodies down he would have told you how extraordinarily wonderful and courageous and kind they were while rivulets of tears ran from his shinny black eyes down into his scraggy beard.

The Potters were not ordinary at all; they were wizards. Or more correctly Mr. Potter was a wizard, Mrs. Potter, as a woman would be more appropriately called a witch. And they weren't just any witch and wizard, they had successfully foiled Lord Voldemort, possibly the most terrible and evil wizard of their era three times and lived to tell about it; a feat that bespoke not only of great bravery, but of their great power as well.

When Voldemort had begun his campaign of terror the Potters had joined the unofficial, official resistance to the Dark Lord, the Order of the Phoenix, led by Albus Dumbledore. Under the leadership of the man who had destroyed the Dark Wizard Grindlewald and current Headmaster for Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry the Potters had hoped to one day be able to raise the son they had been expecting in a world free of the taint of Dark Magic. But then the unthinkable had happened. A prophecy had been made that a boy would be born at the end of July to parents that had thrice defied the Dark Lord that would have the power to destroy him.

So after their son had been born on the 31st of July they went into hiding using some of the most ancient of magics still known to hide themselves. But it hadn't been enough. They had been betrayed and after just over a year of hiding Voldemort had paid them a visit on All-Hallows-Eve. He had murdered them, but somehow when he had tried to kill their son, he had failed. Voldemort's magic had rebounded destroying him and leaving little Harry with only a scratch.

It was to find this boy who lived through what no one else had ever survived, that Dumbledore had sent Hagrid. And Hagrid was determined to complete his mission. He searched the wreckage with a gentleness and care that belied his size. He searched so diligently that he didn't appear to notice the loud sound of the motorcycle engine as it swooped down out of the air. Sirius Black looked haggard as he jumped off his bike and ran into the wreckage calling out the names of his friends, but it was too late. James and Lilly were dead and they couldn't find Harry. But, if they had just looked up, they might have seen the dark silhouette of the carpet that was carrying little Harry Potter to his new home on the other side of the world creeping toward the horizon.

When the two left to inform Dumbledore of what they'd found, they didn't know that there were others already starting their own search for the boy. Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange each searched with a small group of their fellow Death Eaters, the followers of Voldemort in his reign of terror. They had been summoned like nearly all the host of Death Eaters to the Dark Lord's hidden lair to celebrate their master's defeat of the Potters. They all knew that there was something that their master wasn't telling them about the Potters, but none of them knew of the Prophecy. But something had gone terribly wrong they'd all fallen over with the most intense pain any of them had ever felt from their master's dark mark on their forearms.

One does not simply leave once the Dark Lord Voldemort has summoned them. Nor was it particularly wise to be late when responding to his summons. So it was with ever increasing trepidation that the Lucius and Bellatrix waited until finally both leapt into action, each gathering a few of their companions that they knew to be faithful to them, and left to find their master. Neither was willing to share any information with the other on where they might go or how they would find their master or the Potters. Each wanted the power and prestige that they hoped would be bestowed upon them if they were successful in finding and aiding him.

So it was that while most of the wizarding world on the great isle of Britain celebrated, their antics drawing the unknowing attention of the non-magical population that they normally took great pains to hide from, a select group of witches and wizards scoured the island for the hero the rest were praising. While giving the illusion to the outside world that he had the infant safely secreted away; Albus Dumbledore secretly mobilized the Order of the Phoenix to find the missing child. Fooled by the Headmaster's deception Death Eaters searched anywhere they thought Dumbledore cold be hiding the boy. Frank and Alice Longbottom, two respected Aurors and members of the Order of the Phoenix were tortured to insanity by the Lestranges who were subsequently captured and sentenced to life in Azkaban for their crimes. Harry's only living relatives, Vernon and Petunia Dursley were also tortured and killed, orphaning their son Dudley. The perpetrators were never caught.

Finally a few hectic months later, after most of the Death Eaters had given up their search and had either been captured, gone underground or found some way to barter for their freedom, the Order of the Phoenix ran out of leads. Dumbledore stepped out of his chambers into his office at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to find a note on his desk. The letter was short and simple, but left no clue as to how it had been delivered to his desk. It simply stated that Harry Potter was in the most protected place on earth and would not require assistance until it came time for him to attend school and kindly requested that he be allowed to attend at that time. The note was signed simply, Kami.

Out of options Albus Dumbledore disbanded the search informing the Order of the Phoenix that Harry was being protected and would be returning to go to school, his current location a secret. The announcement was met with murmurs of disbelief, but having run out of clues and with the war over most had lives to live and families of their own to look after.

This however did not stop Albus Dumbledore from continuing the search. He searched for the name Kami, but only found it in the roots of a couple of languages for the word ghost or spirit. He wracked his brain on countless nights trying to determine who would call himself a ghost. He looked for what could be considered the most protected place on earth and when that failed he looked for what others might believe were the most protected places. In the end ten years of running the long since over race only brought him closer to his goal by eliminating hundreds of places he wasn't and hundreds of spells and rituals that couldn't divine the boy's location.

So it was with no small amount of trepidation that the greatest Headmaster of the greatest school of witchcraft and wizardry waited at his desk for a report from his transfiguration teacher and deputy headmistress Minerva McGonagall about the acceptance letters that were sent to the young witches and wizards all over Britain who had qualified to attend the oldest school for magic in the country that year. More particularly he was waiting to find out if the owl they had sent with the young Harry Potter's letter would be returned.

So it was while Dumbledore sat in with feigned patience, waiting for what he hoped would be good news that he was interrupted by a flash of light and puff of smoke. Looking at his desk and seeing a similar piece of parchment to the one he had received ten years ago he waited for his ponderously high blood pressure to recede before beginning to read it. By the time he allowed himself to read it he found himself excitedly pondering what previously unknown form of magic could have delivered it to him and consequentially found himself so distracted he had to read the letter twice before he felt he understood the important points. Feeling decades younger, Dumbledore leant back in his chair and closed his eyes, forcibly preventing himself from jumping into action. He'd learned long ago the price of impulsiveness. He forced himself to think the matter through three times before he through a pinch of powder into his fire place and put his head through the now blue flames to start giving orders.

* * *

It had been ten years since Kami had delivered Harry Potter to his new family. He had grown into a healthy young man who was about to turn eleven. His hair was still as unruly as ever, sticking up in all directions just like his father and brother's hair. But unlike his brother's hair, no amount of styling gel or other hair products could make it lie down. He knew that because his mother had tried everything she could think of to get it to lie down over the lightning shaped scar on his forehead, including putting 2 whole bottles of gel in his hair. Harry was glad it hadn't worked he liked his scar. He thought it made him look tough as if the scar were the remnant of some battle he had once fought. 

This day found Harry traipsing through the forest near the mountain home he'd been raised in wearing a loose blue training gi. The gi was sleeveless and showed the soft bulges of his muscular form that seemed out of place on such a young boy. He moved at a fair clip running and jumping between the trees, enjoying the sights and smells as well as the feel of the wind on his face.

He knew his mother was up to something. She didn't usually let him spend the day outside very often. He and his brother usually spent the day studying in their room. But today he'd been sent outside and his brother had been sent on errands. His birthday wasn't for a few days and Harry couldn't think of anything his mum would need his brother out of the house for.

Giving up on trying to figure out what his mum was up to Harry let his mind wander. He'd had a strange dream about a flying motorcycle. It was definitely more pleasant than the dreams he sometimes had about the flashes of green light. He didn't know what that light meant, but someone he knew it was bad.

Harry wondered what it would be like to ride something like a motorcycle that flew. Would it be exciting to have to hold on tight to something as it zipped through the air? Harry loved flying; he'd been doing it since he was six and it never failed to soothe him when left the ground and his worries far behind.

While Harry floated lazily through the air, his foster mother was in the kitchen. She wore traditional Chinese clothing and wore her hair in a tight bun. Piccolo had told her the day before to expect a visitor from a school in England. Apparently Harry's birth parents had left him a scholarship at this school. She'd already made tea and now she was baking cookies to keep her hands busy and help her calm her nerves.

Normally she would have been ecstatic at the idea of being able to send one of her sons to a private school. But this was a school for magic and she knew that if was Piccolo that wanted him to go there, then it must be part of some plan to get her boys to save the world again. But saving the world wouldn't earn her sons a living or give them the money to pay their bills and raise a family. They need a good education to do that and she wanted her boys to have all the good things in life. She'd grown up rich and she didn't regret the modest life style she had been able to share with her husband, and she tried to teach her sons where to find real happiness in life, but she wanted them to be able to live as well off as they'd like to.

Chichi wasn't a fool: she knew that if some tyrant conquered the world, or blew it up or killed everyone on it their educations wouldn't do anything for them. Somebody had to save the world, but why did it always have to be her boys? The last time she'd lost her husband, for good this time. And if it hadn't been for Harry, she wasn't sure Gohan would have ever fought again. She wanted her sons to learn to discipline themselves and work hard, but she didn't want them to completely give up on the things they enjoyed. She was a martial artist too after all. She enjoyed a good fighting match every once in a while. She just knew there were more important things in life than the thrill of a good fight. Was that so wrong?

Chichi's mental rant was interrupted by a loud bang. She stopped what she was doing to listen and when she heard the second bang she could tell that it came from the door. She didn't know who could knock on the door and make it sound like a cannon, but if it was another one of those martial artists her husband had beaten tracking him down for a rematch she was going to beat them senseless. She could use the opportunity to beat someone down to help her relieve the stress from all that worrying about her babies and waiting for the representative from that foreign school.

She'd managed to work herself into a small frenzy by the time the third boom sounded at her door. "Coming!" she yelled as she stormed toward the door. Her breath was coming in loud huffs as she grabbed the doorknob with flour-covered hands. Chichi threw the door open with a violent movement of shoulders, but whatever she was about to yell choked and died in her open mouth. Where she had expected to find the offending guest's face she only saw stomach. Slowly following the scraggily beard that hung to just below the goliath of a man's chest she finally met his shiny black eyes that seemed to glitter with a bemused mirth.

Now considering the size of her father one wouldn't expect her to be rendered speechless just by the sight of an inhumanly large man, but in all fairness her father was a little wider than the man that stood in front of her, but this man stood a good head and shoulders taller than her father who and been appropriately named Ox. The shock didn't last long however, she quickly regained the wind in her sails and her lungs. "If you're looking for my husband you're too late he's gone, but if it's a fight you want make it quick." Chichi didn't even remove her apron as she gestured to the grassy area in front of her home. "I've got someone coming from a school that accepted my son, so I don't have much time."

Hagrid was taken aback. Due to his size he'd been challenged to his fair share of duels by the wizards he went to school with, but he didn't think he'd ever been challenged to a fist fight. But here stood a woman of no remarkable size challenging him to a fight. It took him a second to regain his voice before he could respond. "I'm not here to fight ya." Hagrid put his hands up in a placating gesture. "I'm Reubeus Hagrid, keeper of keys and grounds at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft at Wizardry; I'm here ta talk ta Harry bout goin' to school."

Hagrid waited as the small lady looked him up and down a couple of times. For a second he was worried that the translation spell wasn't working, but he quickly pushed that thought out of his mind. If Dumbledore had cast it, it was sure to work.

Hesitantly, Chichi bowed. "I'm sorry, I'd thought you were someone else. I'm Son Chichi." There was a tense moment while Chichi kept her head down before Hagrid bowed hesitantly in return.

"Not a problem ma'am," he replied a little nervously.

"Please come inside," she said as she led Hagrid into her home and directed him to a sitting room. "Have a seat. I'll be back in a moment." Hagrid did as she asked and sat himself down on a couch. He was nervous. Harry Potter had disappeared so many years ago and Albus Dumbledore had given him the mission of bringing him back even though he'd been the one that lost him the first time.

He didn't have time to brood as his host returned quickly, her apron gone and her hands clean. She was carrying in a tray with two cups of tea and what smelt like freshly baked cookies, which she set down on a small coffee table and offered him before she sat opposite him. "I understand that you're school has accepted my Harry even though we've not submitted any transcripts?"

"Yes ma'am, he's been on the list since the day he was born." Hagrid replied not sure what a transcript was.

"I see," was her response, but the way she looked at him, suggested that she clearly thought there was more to something than Hagrid was letting on. She leaned back, causing Hagrid to visibly relax before she continued. "So why do you really want my son, what do you need him to save you from?"

Hagrid was completely taken back by this. Of all the questions he thought he might be asked this definitely wasn't one of them. And before he could collect himself to respond she continued: "Look, I know something's going on. Why else would Piccolo suggest sending Harry to this school of yours? What do you need my boys to fight?"

"Nuthin' ma'am; there's nothing dangerous at Hogwarts and Albus Dumbledore would never let anything happen to one of the students."

"Then why would Piccolo want him to go? He only ever wants them to do something dangerous." Chichi crossed her arms, and eyed the grounds keeper as if daring him to deny it.

"I don't know no one named Piccolo ma'am," Hagrid began. "Harry's parents made arrangements for him to come before they died so we…"

Hagrid was interrupted by the sound of the door opening and a young voice yelling, "Mom, I'm back with the groceries."

Chichi eyed the large man warily before yelling back. "That's good Gohan, put them away and then go get your brother there's someone here to see him."

Due to how badly it had been going, Hagrid was hesitant to continue the conversation. Surprisingly Chichi seemed content to wait so Hagrid sat in uncomfortable silence. But it was only moments before he heard the door open and close. The boy must not have gotten many groceries. It seemed that it was only moments later that he heard the door open and close once again and another boy called out, "We're back mum!"

"Come to the living room Harry, there's someone to see you." Chichi called back. Hagrid turned his head in time to see the two most muscular boys he'd ever seen walk in and sit on either side of Chichi. The boys looked so similar that Hagrid had to look back and forth at them for a minute to sort them out. They each had messy black hair and their faces were similar enough that they definitely looked like brothers. They were both wearing what looked like some kind of strange pajamas, but while one had the darkest eyes he'd ever seen, the smaller of the two had piercing green eyes with a lightning bolt shaped scar above one of them.

"Ah, Harry, it's good to see yeh." Hagrid turned to the slightly smaller boy. "I've not seen yeh since yeh were a wee little babe in your mothers arms. Yeh look just like your dad, 'cept you've got your mum's eyes. Good thing too, since your dad couldn't see wha' was right'n front o'him less he had his glasses on."

"Well Mr. Piccolo fixed my eyes when I was six," Harry began a little nervously. He didn't know who this was, but this man seemed to know him. But his dad didn't have any problems seeing, unless… "Did you know my birth parents?"

"O'course, who else could I have been talkin' abou'?" Hagrid replied jovially. "I met 'em both when they were just starting Hogwarts. Your dad already thought your mum was the prettiest girl in the world but back then your mum thought all boys were prats."

Harry looked over at the woman he'd grown up calling his mother to see how she was taking all this talk about his biological parents. She seemed pretty stoic about the whole thing. Looking past her he could see Gohan who seemed genuinely excited for him.

Still nervous he turned back to the stranger who had come to see him. "I'm sorry but who are you and what can I do for you?"

"Oh, I'm sorry Harry, where are my manners?" Chichi chimed in before Hagrid could say anything. "This is Mr. Hagrid, he represents a school that accepted you." Then she turned to Hagrid. "You seem to already know Harry, this is my other son, Gohan."

"How do yeh do?" Hagrid replied politely.

"School?" Harry questioned his mother. He didn't remember her ever mentioning sending of applications for schools. He and his brother had always been taught at home.

"Of course a school," Hagrid chimed in. "Haven't you ever wondered where your parents learned it all?"

"Learned all what?" Harry asked, he didn't want to upset his mother, but he didn't really know much about his biological parents.

This seemed to be the wrong thing to say as the giant of the man paused shocked and then turned to his mum. "Yeh mean yeh never told him about anything?"

Hagrid's voice had gotten louder, but Chichi's response was even louder. "What was I supposed to tell him? All Kami said when he gave Harry to us was that he had some power that even my husband, Goku would never have. Goku wanted to start training him to fight right then." She said the last quietly. Apparently it was still hard for her to talk about her husband who had only been dead for a few months. "And Piccolo just gave me your letter yesterday!" Her volume returned just as suddenly as it had dropped off. "I was hoping you would be able to fill us all in on what was going on!"

Apparently Hagrid looked sufficiently taken aback, because Chichi stopped. It was a good thing too. Harry knew that if Hagrid didn't look sufficiently repentant there'd be no chance of Harry going to this school or of Hagrid getting out of the house without a big lump on his head.

"I'm sorry ma'am," Hagrid said abashed. "I thought yeh'd been told. Yeh see Harry's parents were famous…he's famous." Hagrid seemed to almost be at a loss for words.

"How can my biological parents have been famous? I've never heard of them. I don't even know who they are." Harry questioned

"Harry, yeh mean you really don't know what yeh are?" Hagrid asked. He almost seemed sad.

"I'm just Harry," was all he could think to say.

"Just Harry he says," Hagrid actually chuckled. "Harry, yer a wizard."

"A wizard, there must be some mistake."

"There's no mistake Harry," Hagrid smiled making his beard bristle and eyes twinkle. "How could the son of James and Lilly Potter, maybe the greatest witch and wizard of their generation be anythin' but a wizard? An' I reckon yeh'll be a thumpin' good'un too once yeh've been trained up a bit."

"But I'm not that special, there are tons of people stronger than me."

"Yah, tons Harry," Gohan broke in. "There's me, Dad, Mr. Piccolo and Vegita."

"Yah, and eventually Trunks and Mom's new baby," Harry replied sulkily.

"It'll be years before they're any where near as strong as you, Harry."

"Maybe, but they all will be and then they'll become super-saiyans and I'll still be at my limit."

"But it'll be great don't you see," Gohan said excitedly. "If you can do magic you'll have a power we don't have. You'll be able to do things that even a super-saiyan can't do."

"If I can even do magic," Harry responded morosely.

Hagrid didn't seem to be able to keep up with what the boys were talking about, but he understood the last bit. "Harry, O'course yeh can do magic. Haven't yeh ever done something yeh didn't know how yeh did it, or made things happen when yeh was scared or angry?"

That one question suddenly made a lot of things make a lot more sense to everyone that heard it. Even high on Kami's look out where two green men stood listening in on the conversation. Piccolo remembered the first fight he'd ever been in with Harry. He and his brother Gohan had been trapped in their uncle's space pod while their uncle Raditz was attempting to crush their father under his boot. Both were screaming when suddenly the pod exploded and Gohan in his rage had generated more power than he had ever felt.

Gohan lost all his power after a single blow. But what a blow, it took several moments for Raditz to recover from it. But it was when he started stalking toward Gohan that Harry had shown his hidden power. He hadn't even left the wreckage of the pod, when he yelled out to Raditz telling the saiyan to leave his brother alone. And when Raditz didn't listen he found himself with several gashes in his legs from the sharp spikes that had suddenly come out of the ground around him. When he'd charged Harry the boy had lifted his hands up in front of himself and a stone hand came up from the ground between him and the charging saiyan. It hadn't been enough, Raditz punched right through it and knocked the boy out. But Piccolo knew then that that boy had something to offer in defending the planet.

Back in the small home in the mountains Gohan was remembering a different event. After that brute Nappa had killed Mr. Piccolo he'd been enraged and blasted him with everything he had and Nappa just shook it off like it was nothing. But then Harry had screamed and held one hand out to his side. Everyone had just stood awe-struck as wind and fire had started to whip around above his hand in a disk that somehow you could just see was razor sharp. Bitts of rock and sand were sucked in and then suddenly the disc twisted in on itself forming a swirling, spinning vortex. Harry brought the spinning sphere in front of him and the winds and flames intensified until he yelled again and blasted it at Nappa. If Vegeta hadn't told him to get out of the way because the scouter couldn't recognize the energy, Gohan was convinced that Nappa would have been destroyed. But Gohan would never forget the terrible grinding sound that ball had made when it hit that cliff face or the site of the scorched crater with deep slashes running through it at odd angles.

Chichi finally understood why she could never get Harry's hair to lie down no matter how much gel she used. Then there was the time that she kept cutting his hair shorter and shorter until she'd accidentally cut it too short. Then the next day it had grown out again.

Finally things made a bit more sense to Harry. All the things he'd learned to do that Gohan hadn't while they were alone in the forest together. The way he could pop around and the sword he'd been able to make appear when his sword had been knocked away during a fight with one of the monsters in that place. The tricks had made up for his being weaker and slower than Gohan for a while. Then Gohan had transformed into a super saiyan, but he never learned to do the techniques that Harry had. Now Harry knew why, Gohan couldn't because it was magic. Even his dad's instant transmission technique was different from Harry's teleportation.

Hagrid cold apparently read what they were thinking by the looks on their faces. "Harry Potter not able to do magic…Just yeh wait, you'll be right famous at Hogwarts."

"Famous? What would I be famous for?" Harry asked uncomfortably.

"Harry yeh really don't know?" Hagrid asked somewhat sadly

The suspense had apparently been enough for Chichi, because while he was shaking his head Chichi spoke up. "Of course he doesn't know! No one told us anything!"

"I'm sorry," Hagrid said placating as he lifted his hands in front of himself. "It's just that everybody in our world knows the story. They even tell it to their children as a bedtime story."

"I bet that's going to make you real popular with the girls, Harry," Gohan chimed in.

"Be quiet," was all that Harry managed to say through his blush.

Chichi wasn't so easily distracted. "What do you mean your world?"

"Well the Magical World." Hagrid replied shakily. Something about the small woman seemed to unnerve him in a way he'd never experienced before.

"And that's different from my world?" Chichi's tone of voice suggested there would be consequences if he didn't answer her question correctly.

"Well… ehh…we kinda keep to ourselves," was all Hagrid could think to say.

This time Gohan decided to try and deflect his mother's ire. "It's grammatically correct to refer to another society as another world if they keep it separate or secret enough mum. But I didn't know you could speak English this well."

"Well I had to be able to correct your mistakes," Chichi said airily, without elaborating on when or how much she'd studied.

Hagrid was about to explain about the spell that had been past to allow everyone to understand each other around him. However his silence drew Chichi's attention back to him. "So are you going to tell us or not?"

"I never expected this," he said, in a low, worried voice. "I had no idea how much yeh didn't know. And I don' know if I'm the right person ter tell …but someone's gotta…Harry can't go off ter Hogwarts not knowin'."

"Well, it's best yeh know as much as I can tell yeh…mind, I can't tell yeh everythin', it's a great myst'ry, parts of it..." He stared at something behind them for a few seconds, and then said, "It begins, I suppose, with—with a person called…but it's incredible yeh don't know his name, everyone in our world knows…"

"Who?" The slight traces of excitement in Harry and Gohan's voice seemed to unnerve Hagrid

"Well -- I don' like sayin' the name if I can help it. No one does."

"Why not?" This time all three responded at once.

"Gulpin' gargoyles, people are still scared. Blimey, this is difficult. See, there was this wizard who went...bad. As bad as you could go. Worse. Worse than worse. His name was..." Hagrid gulped, but no words came out.

"Could you write it down?" Gohan suggested.

"Nah…can't spell it. All right…Voldemort." Hagrid shuddered. "Don' make me say it again. Anyway, this-this wizard, about twenty years ago now, started lookin' fer followers. Got 'em, too…some were afraid, some just wanted a bit o' his power, 'cause he was getting' himself power, all right. Dark days. Didn't know who ter trust, didn't dare get friendly with strange wizards or witches...terrible things happened. He was takin' over. 'Course, some stood up to him…an' he killed 'em. Horribly. One o' the only safe places left was Hogwarts. Reckon Dumbledore's the only one You-Know-Who was afraid of. Didn't dare try takin' the school, not jus' then, anyway.

"Now, yer mum an' dad, Harry were as good a witch an' wizard as I ever knew. Head boy an' girl at Hogwarts in their day! Suppose the myst'ry is why You-Know-Who never tried to get 'em on his side before...probably knew they were too close ter Dumbledore ter want anythin' ter do with the Dark Side.

"Maybe he thought he could persuade 'em... maybe he just wanted 'em outta the way. All anyone knows is, he turned up in the village where they was all living, on Halloween ten years ago. Harry was just a year old. He came ter their house an'-an'…" Hagrid suddenly pulled out a very dirty, spotted handkerchief and blew his nose with a sound like a foghorn.

"Sorry," he said. "But it's that sad …knew Harry's mum an' dad, an' nicer people yeh couldn't find…anyway...

"You-Know-Who killed 'em. An' then – an' this is the real myst'ry of the thing—he tried to kill you too, Harry. Wanted ter make a clean job of it, I suppose, or maybe he just liked killin' by then. But he couldn't do it. You see that mark on yer forehead? That doesn't look like no ordinary cut. I reckon that's what yeh get when a powerful, evil curse touches yeh—took care of yer mum an' dad an' yer house, even, but it didn't work on you, an' that's why yer famous, Harry. No one ever lived after he decided ter kill 'em, no one except you, an' he'd killed some o' the best witches an' wizards of the age: the McKinnons, the Bones, the Prewetts – an' you was only a baby, an' you lived."

Something very painful was going on in Harry's mind. As Hagrid's story came to a close, he saw again the blinding flash of green light, more clearly than he had ever remembered it before. And he remembered something else, for the first time in his life: a high, cold, cruel laugh.

Hagrid was watching him sadly.

"Went ter get yeh from the ruined house myself, on Dumbledore's orders. But we couldn't find yeh. We searched half the country fer yeh, before Dumbledore finally called it off. Said you'd been taken some place safe."

Harry still had questions to ask, hundreds of them. "But what happened to Vol…, sorry, I mean, You-Know-Who?"

"Good question, Harry. Disappeared. Vanished. Same night he tried ter kill you. Makes yeh even more famous. That's the biggest myst'ry, see... he was getting' more an' more powerful – why'd he go?

"Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion. Dunno if he had enough human left in him to die. Some say he's still out there, bidin' his time, like, but I don' believe it. People who was on his side came back ter ours. Some of 'em came outta kinda trances. Don' reckon they could've done if he was comin' back.

"Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on. 'Cause somethin' about you finished him, Harry. There was somethin' goin' on that night he hadn't counted on. I dunno what it was, no one does…but somethin' about you stumped him, all right."

"Ah Ha!" Chichi screamed, jumped out of her seat and pointed a finger straight at Hagrid's chest. "So that's what you want my boys for. You want Harry to go to this school so that they'll have to finish of this Voldemort fellow!"

Hagrid shuddered again. "No Ma'am. No one expects Harry to do anymore then he's already done. If you-know-who comes back, mark my words it'll be Albus Dumbledore that takes care ah him. But we're doin' everthin' we can to be sure he don't come back."

Chichi didn't look like she wasn't quite mollified, but Hagrid decided to risk continuing anyways. "Well I reckon it's abou' time you got yer letter."

Hagrid stood up and reached into one of his voluminous pockets, but before he could pull out the letter Chichi reached into the folds of her clothes and pulled out two pieces of yellowed parchment that had been folded into thirds around each other and handed them to Harry. Her eyes never left Hagrid as if she were still trying to determine if she believed his exclamations.

Harry ran his thumb over the two thick pieces of parchment examining the strange paper. It wasn't like the rice parchment scrolls he'd seen, but it felt as antiquated, as if he'd just stepped back a several centuries in time. After a moment to collect himself, Harry read the letter.

HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY

Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme

Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)

Dear Mr. Potter,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress

Harry quickly flipped to look at the other page to find a list of supplies. In particular he perused the book list to get an idea of what subjects he'd be studying. "Is this all there is?" Harry looked up at Hagrid over the two sheets of parchment he now held side by side so he could see look back and forth between them.

"yeh got yer letter and supply list right?" Hagrid asked, not sure what Harry was asking.

"Yah, but there's nothing else how do you expect someone to decide if they want to go if they've never heard of the school before or don't believe in magic?"

"But Harry surely yeh wanna go…yer parents…" It never even occurred to Hagrid that Harry wouldn't want to go to Hogwarts. It was Hagrid's favorite place in the world, but he didn't know how to convince Harry.

"If Mr. Piccolo thinks I should, that's good enough for me, but there's nothing here to tell me what I'm really getting into." Harry had lowered head back to the two pieces of parchment as if to search them for more clues.

"Maybe they figure that anyone would want to go if it meant they could learn magic," Gohan suggested excitedly. "I'd want to go if they asked me and I can't do the things you can Harry." Harry just nodded still searching the documents.

Hagrid sagged as he let out a sigh of relief that he wouldn't have to convince Harry Potter to be a wizard. But apparently Mr. Piccolo's word wasn't enough for Chichi. "Well, I'm not convinced. I looked at that book list. How are we supposed to deal with Harry's regular education?"

Her words jolted Hagrid upright. "This is the regular education," Hagrid said, not really sure what else Chichi could be thinking about.

"You ask him to get a History book, but what about math and the sciences?"

Hagrid scratched his head. "In third year he can take arithmacy, but what would a wizard want with Science?"

Chichi let out a frustrated noise and seemed to melt into the couch; nearly feinting. Harry and Gohan watched their mother be rendered speechless for what was possibly the first time in her life. No one had ever questioned the importance of science to her. Usually if they wanted something they tried to navigate around the issue, but never in her experience had anyone suggested that science could be useless.

"B…b…but what about a job?" she finally managed to stammer out. "I know my Harry's special, but what can he do with just a magical education, how will he live?"

Clearing his throat with a sound that that sounded like it came out the motor of an old car Hagrid replied. "Well he could do anythin' he wants, once he's graduated o'course."

"But what about a job, saving the world doesn't pay and he won't be able to get a good job in the real world with only the education he has now and some magical diploma." Chichi didn't completely buy that these people didn't want Harry to save them from something. And if Piccolo wanted him to go, then it must be so he could learn to fight in some new way.

"Well he'd get a Wizard job o'course." Hagrid replied as if it was the most obvious thing.

"Like what?" Chichi stared the large man down. Gohan and Harry were also watching him expectantly.

"Well there be all kinds really," Hagrid replied uneasily. He'd never really thought about how to describe all the things a witch or wizard could do. "I know a bloke that was really good with animals, he takes care o' dragons now."

"Cool," Harry and Gohan both muttered.

"An he's got a brother that last I heard was down in Egypt breakin' curses on the tombs down there." Harry and Gohan both oohed and ahhed appropriately, but Chichi wasn't so easily impressed.

"You can do anythin' really," Hagrid was beginning to sweat it under Chichi's withering gaze. "He could work in a shop or make something to sell, with magic o'course." Hagrid started speaking fast in hopes of finding something that Chichi would accept. "He could work for the Ministry o Magic…He could get a desk job or catch dark wizards…They even got people tha' research magical artifacts or study magic and make new spells."

Harry and Gohan didn't seem to be too impressed with these last options, though they seemed to perk up at the idea of catching dark wizards. But Chichi seemed to finally relax at the end. She seemed to particularly like the idea of studying magic and making spells. It would be just like being a scientist for magic.

Chichi sighed. If he really could make a decent living with magic then she guessed she owed it to Harry to let him find out about it all. He could always decide that Magic wasn't his thing and go to a normal school. Besides if he wanted to know she knew she had to let him learn what his biological parents had lived like. She'd always known that a day like this would come when he wanted to learn about the people that had given him life, but she felt like she was loosing one of her babies too soon.

So it was with a tear in her eye that she asked, "how much?"

"Pardon," was all Hagrid could say. He didn't know what to make of her sudden change in attitude.

"How much will it cost us to send him?"

"Oh," Hagrid pulled at his collar nervously. "Well yeh needen' worry bout tha'. Harry's parents already made those arrangements."

Chichi didn't know whether to be relieved about the money or cry because she was losing one of her babies. Harry couldn't decide who was more excited him or Gohan.

* * *

Obliviator's Notes: 

Please note that it is unknown how Akira Toriyama came across the information about the events portrayed in Dragon Ball and Dragon Ball Z, but once it was discovered that he knew he was obliviated by the Asian Ministry of Magic and Martial Arts. Unfortunately the amount of information was so extensive that the obliviator, lacking Lockhart's skill with memory charms, couldn't remove all of the information from Mr. Toriyama's mind. The amazing technology, strange architecture and vehicles as well as strange political system you see in his stories are products of his fanciful imagination mixed with some magical elements that he couldn't completely remember correctly. The obliviator however was able to successfully remove most all traces of the famous wizard in these events, Harry Potter, which is why he is not mentioned in Dragon Ball Z.

Harry's first year of Hogwarts starts the fall term after the deaths of Goku and Cell. For those of you who are familiar with the series you can assume that anything that happened in Dragon Ball & Dragon Ball Z did occur in a fairly similar if not identical fashion to what was portrayed, excepting of course the involvement of the wizard-martial-artist Harry Potter. Most of the significant differences will be revealed in flashbacks throughout the story. These flashbacks as well as the narratives should hopefully be descriptive enough to allow anyone not familiar with the Dragon Ball & Dragon Ball Z series to understand the elements important to the plot.

* * *

Author's statement of purpose: 

I ran across an interesting story that was a crossover between Harry Potter and Dragon Ball Z, which was sadly not well written and abandoned. I thought the crossover had a significant amount of comedic potential so I searched for more and sadly nearly everything I found suffered from one of the above problems, so I decided to write my own.

I intend to write all seven years of Harry's education, but years six and seven may be condensed and or combined. I had considered starting with the beginning of Prisoner of Azkaban or even the end of Chamber of Secrets, but there were just too many scenes that I wanted to do differently to cover in flash backs to my satisfaction. However the first two years of Harry's education will run very similarly to how they do in the original books with hopefully a lot of entertaining differences due to Harry's abilities and different upbringing. Year three will be radically different with year four moving back toward the books and the remaining years being significantly to radically different than the books. If you find the first two years too boring I will be starting book three, _Harry Potter Z: And the Fugitive from Azkaban_ with a prologue containing the end of book two, which will be all you'll need to begin reading starting at year three however you will be missing out on what will hopefully be a lot of humor.

For those of you not familiar with Hinata's story, I answer reviews by posting one long review after the reviews trickle down. As you may have noticed I have posted several chapters at once for your reading pleasure. So don't wait till next time, just click away same bat-time same bat-channel!


	2. Diagon Alley

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

See Chapter 1 and feel free to curse anyone who charges you to read this story.

* * *

Chapter 2: Diagon Alley

* * *

It took a little discussion, but eventually it was determined that Harry would need to go with Hagrid to get his school supplies since Hagrid had no idea where to find them locally. It took even more discussion before he had permission to go. Harry could tell that the whole thing had been very sudden for his mother. It took several assurances that he'd be back tonight, that school didn't start for another month and he'd need to learn where the school was so he could get there when school started. 

It was easy to tell when Chichi finally accepted that her son was going to school, because she instantly started giving orders. Harry knew it was her way of coping. Hagrid was grilled about how they were getting there and when they could expect Harry back and Harry was sent upstairs to shower and dress in civilized clothes.

When Harry came back down he was wearing black slacks and his best white silk shirt. But despite the care he'd taken in dressing he was unable to escape his mother's primping as she adjusted the shirt's straight collar and the embroidered fastenings that ran down the front. He'd known she would do it, so he bore it with patience until she finally handed him a large cloth wrapped bundle filled with sandwiches for the trip and escorted him outside to the waiting Hagrid.

They would be traveling using Mr. Popo's flying carpet. It turned out that was how Hagrid had gotten to their home in the first place. Gohan had wanted to come to, but Harry pulled him aside and convinced him to stay, promising to take him the next time after their mum had more time to get used to the idea.

So Harry found himself sitting behind the giant of a man that was Hagrid in companionable silence as they flew toward the horizon. At least it was companionable on Harry's part. Harry had tried to start a conversation with him by asking about the magical world, but Hagrid had told him that it was best if he saw it for himself. Judging by the way he gripped the sides of the carpet on either side of him and the quaver in his voice Harry figured Hagrid was just too scared to talk.

Harry amused himself by watching the scenery fly by until it got to dark. Thanks to moving against the rotation of the earth it was early morning when the carpet dropped them off in a secluded area not far from a tube station. It was the first time Harry had ever seen one, as well as the first time he'd ever handled English money. But he had ended having to buy the tickets. Hagrid had brought more than enough money, but he didn't seem to be able to figure it out. So Harry had to do it for him, it was like Hagrid couldn't figure out base ten math.

Now that they were on the ground Hagrid was talkative again. Harry wanted to talk about the magical world, but Hagrid insisted they couldn't talk about it where muggles could overhear them; it was against some statute of secrecy. Though all Harry had to do was ask bout the statute of secrecy and Hagrid was all to happy to explain to him about the ministry of magic and how it's job was to keep everything wizards did secret from the muggles. He said it was so muggles wouldn't be constantly bothering witches and wizards looking for magical solutions to all their problems. That explanation sounded a little fishy to Harry though.

The closer they got to London the more self-conscious Harry became about the looks they were getting. Harry couldn't tell if it was the way he was dressed or Hagrid's incredible size. Or maybe it was the way Hagrid kept pointing at common items like parking meters and turnstiles while muttering to himself about silly muggles. Or maybe it was because Hagrid was so big he had to be let around the turnstile, because he couldn't get through.

Harry followed close behind Hagrid once they left the underground. With Hagrid's immense size, he didn't think he'd lose him in the crowd, but Harry didn't know where to go to get his school supplies and Hagrid seemed to know exactly where he was going. So Harry contented himself to follow in the man's wake. On the way Harry began to consult his supply list looking for places that they might be able to buy his school supplies. It didn't look like they were going to be able to find them in any normal store. The passed a couple shops advertising some new age magic and fortune telling but Hagrid didn't stop when Harry pointed them out. "Oh, them are jus' a bunch o' muggles wha' thin' they know bout' magic. Ya won' fine anythin' o' use in there."

Finally giving up on finding a place to buy his supplies on his own Harry resigned himself to just following Hagrid. Harry kept himself occupied by looking around. Due to Hagrid's size he didn't worry about loosing track of him. And while London seemed to be a lot like the other cities in Asia Harry had visited it was also very different, particularly the older buildings.

There was one up ahead that looked particularly shabby nestled in-between two much newer buildings. It had an old wooden sign declaring it the leaky cauldron. It looked out of place but every time Harry tried to look at it, he seemed to feel a subtle impulse to look away. It was exasperating.

Everyone else seemed to be walking past it without paying any attention to it. In fact the only person that seemed to notice the building at all was a brown haired girl about Harry's age that was doing her best to ignore a blond boy standing in front of her. He was standing closer to the brown haired girl than was polite and he seemed to be upset. Harry was about to ask Hagrid about the strange building when he saw the boy's shoulders tense. The next second the blond cocked his arm back and elbowed Harry right in the face.

"Hey, be careful," Harry said, feigning annoyance.

"Where did you come from?" the boy asked. He was clearly very certain that there hadn't been anyone near by a moment ago, and he was right.

"Asia." Harry smiled openly at his joke. He really shouldn't of used his generally considered inhuman speed like he did, he usually made sure not to show his power in public, but he didn't want to just let some girl get hit.

"I mean, what are you doing?" The boy seemed to know that he was being mocked

"Buying school supplies," Harry tried to smile as innocently as possible. Unfortunately he'd never really mastered the innocent look.

"Alone?" The boy's shoulders were tensing back up and he was unconsciously opening and closing his fists.

Harry casually looked toward where Hagrid was still walking toward him. He didn't seem to notice that Harry wasn't still behind him. But he would catch up soon. "It would seem so."

The boy was about to strike out and Harry knew it. The girl apparently knew it too, because she tried to change the subject to distract him. "So where are you going to school?"

Harry took a good look at the girl for the first time. She had extremely bushy hair and two front teeth that seemed to be a little too big. She was wearing blue jeans and a red blouse and had a no-nonsense look about her. Harry didn't know if there was a rule about not telling anyone about the school, but he figured any muggle that heard the name would just not recognize it. "Hogwarts."

However Harry expected the girl to react he didn't expect her to jump with excitement and squeal, "Me too!" It apparently surprised the bully too, because he stopped just as suddenly as Harry and looked at the Bushy haired girl.

"He's not…?" Harry gestured toward the bully.

"No, he's just a muggle," the bouncing a girl regained some of her earlier seriousness. "He's going to Smeltings. I used to go to school with him before I got my letter."

"So your parents aren't?" Harry asked cautiously, unsure of how much he could say around the muggle boy.

"No, but they've been ever so great about it." Hermione spoke breathlessly, her excitement returning. "Are your parents?"

The muggle bully apparently didn't like to be ignored, especially not by a couple of geeks that thought they were so great like there was some big secret about going to their expensive private school full of other freaks like them. He'd show them that it wasn't smart to talk down to normal people.

"No, but I'm told that my biological parents were." Harry leaned back, to avoid the bully's fist. "This is all new to me." Harry continued to ignore the bully as he twisted and turned this way and that to avoid his punches.

"Are you going to be OK?" the bushy haired girl asked, concern and awe both evident in her face.

"Oh, I could do this all day." Harry stepped towards the bushy haired girl extending his hand as the bully tripped over Harry's heel. The Boy fell on his face so hard that the bushy haired girl couldn't help but wince. "I'm Harry."

The bushy haired girl turned back towards Harry and started as if seeing his hand for the first time. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger." She took his hand, shaking it firmly.

Furious at being ignored, the bully leapt up and lunged at the two brainiac-freaks. Harry stepped forward and grabbed Hermione, and smoothly twisted her away from the lumbering bully. Gracefully, at least on Harry's part, they danced around two more of that gorilla like boy's punches. He lifted her arm up and spun Hermione around like a ballroom dancer while the third punch whizzed through the air between them. Then stepping close be bent forward and dipped her low allowing another blow to pass harmlessly over his head.

Pulling the now flushed Hermione up straight, Harry pivoted on one foot and spun around so that he standing beside the breathless girl and facing their assailant. The would-be bully was breathing heavily. "I felt the wind on that one," Harry smirked as he stepped forward. "Are you still sure you want to go hitting everyone that upsets you?"

Further enraged the bully stood up straight and lifted his arm over his head to swing a hay-maker, but was stopped by a loud voice.

"What's go'in on 'ere?" Hagrid's voice boomed.

"Oh nothing," Harry said as he turned toward Hagrid. "This gentleman was just giving us a demonstration of his martial arts technique."

"Technique?" Hagrid asked, confused. Hermione was just as bewildered if for different reasons. "This true?" Hagrid asked the completely dumbstruck bully.

"Uh-huh," was all the boy could get out as his head bobbed up and down trying to take in the sight of the giant of a man in front of him.

"Yeah, it's really incredible." Harry sounded excited. "I've never seen a technique so off balance and unguarded and sloppy looking. I was scared to touch him, because I knew it had to be a trick."

Harry was in the middle of his rant when Hermione's parents jogged up. So they were just in time to see the blond haired bully punch Harry right in the face.

"See!" Harry yelled excitedly with the other boy's fist still pressed in his face. "Look at that control, I didn't feel a thing!"

Not sure what was happening Hagrid decided to press forward. "Come on Harry, everythin' you're looking for is right in 'ere." Placing one hand on Harry's back Hagrid ushered his charge into the shabby building. Hermione grabbed her parents and pulled them in after. No one noticed the boy they left behind fall on his butt and stare open mouthed at where everyone had been standing.

"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron." Hagrid waved one of his massive hands in front of him in an expansive gesture. "It's a famous place."

Harry didn't see how such a dingy pub could be a famous place, but it certainly had its share of strange people in it. Most of them wore long billowing robes. There were a couple of gray old women twittering away in a dark booth in the corner. There were three men playing cards at one table and a smattering of other people of varying shapes and sizes scattered around the large dusty room. And it must have been a trick of the light, but out of the corner of his eye Harry could have sworn he saw a teenage girl walk right out of the lit fireplace in the far side of the room.

Harry had his doubts about whether or not the old pub was famous, but it seemed Hagrid sure was. The chatter in the tavern seemed to drop away as soon as Hagrid had come in and most of the patrons turned to look at him, several calling out to him.

Harry heard Hermione coming up behind him. She seemed to be too busy answering her parents' unasked question to notice the drop in volume. "…he's going to be going to Hogwarts too, his name is Harry."

The old grinning bartender seemed to choke on what he was about to say and jerked his head to look away from Hagrid and on to Harry. "Harry Potter," the man called out loudly. The bald bartender started shuffling out from behind the bar.

Shocked by the outburst Hermione turned back around to see a bald old man whose broad smile made so many lines on his face that he resembled a toothless walnut approaching Harry. The whole room had gone quiet as everyone watched the bartender approach the startled young man as if the two of them were the only actors on a stage.

Harry looked up at Hagrid only to see the bearded man smiling back down at him. When he turned back he saw the bartender looking at him intently. "Bless my soul," The old man's voice was quiet, but it carried over the entire room. "It is you." The old man reached out his hand. Harry reached out tentatively to shake it. When he did the old man shook it so violently he seemed to be trying to take it off. "Welcome back Mr. Potter. Welcome back!"

Pandemonium ensued after the man's excited welcome. After hearing the sound of dozens of chairs scraping the wooden floor Harry looked up to find himself surrounded by a throng of well wishers each trying to shake his hand.

"It's an honor to meet you."

"Thank you for everything."

"My parents used to tell me bed-time stories about you—I've always wanted to shake your hand."

The throng of well wishers didn't disperse until he'd managed to shake each of their hands, some of them more than once. Hermione and her parents had disappeared some time during the confusion. Harry didn't see where to.

The last person to approach Harry waited until the rest of the crowd had gone. He seemed to be afraid of crowds. The lanky turban clad man wrapped his arms around himself and seemed to lean away from people as if they were much closer than they were. If not crowds, the way the man shivered at the slightest sound or sudden movement told Harry he was definitely scared of something.

"Professor Quirrell!" the approaching man jerked back at the sound of Hagred's voice, almost as if he were trying to sneak up on them by walking right in front of them. "Harry, Professor Quirrell will be one of your teachers at Hogwarts."

"P-P-Potter," stammered Professor Quirrell, grasping Harry's hand, "c-can't t-tell you how p-pleased I am to meet you."

"What sort of magic do you teach, Professor Quirrell?"

"D-Defense Against the D-D-Dark Arts," muttered Professor Quirrell, as though he'd rather not think about it. "N-not that you n-need it, eh, P-P-Potter?" He laughed nervously.

"But that's the class I'm looking forward to the most," Harry replied excitedly

Professor Querrell looked a little intimidated at the boy's comment. It took him a moment to regain his bearings. "You'll be g-getting all your equipment, I suppose? I've g-got to p-pick up some g-garlic, m-myself." The way he shuddered lead Harry to believe the professor didn't like garlic very much.

After a moment of uncomfortable silence Hagrid decided it was time to move on. "Must get on -- lots ter buy. Come on, Harry."

The patrons of the Leaky Cauldron, however didn't let them get away quite that easily. Once it became apparent that Harry intended to leave, he found himself crowded again. Some of the people just kept coming back. But fortunately Hagrid's bulk allowed him to usher Harry out despite his admirers. They got out the back door just in time to avoid two six-year-old girls that had been pulling their mothers back toward Harry. Of all the strange people in the old bar, there was something about the way those giggling wide-eyed little girls looked at him that unnerved him more than anyone else in the pub. It was like the way Vegita looked at you before he pummeled you. Like he knew something you didn't.

The back door led to a simple walled courtyard that was empty except for a tin trashcan and the weeds sticking up through the cobblestones.

Hagrid grinned at Harry. "Told yeh, didn't I? Told yeh you was famous. Even Professor Quirrell was tremblin' ter meet yeh—mind you, he's usually tremblin'."

"Is he always that scared?"

"Oh, yeah. Poor bloke. Brilliant mind. He was fine while he was studyin' outta books but then he took a year off ter get some firsthand experience... They say he met vampires in the Black Forest, and there was a nasty bit o' trouble with a hag—never been the same since. Scared of the students, scared of his own subject now, where's me umbrella?"

Harry had heard about vampires. His dad had fought one in Baba's tournament once. Actually Puar and one of his dad's friends whose name Harry couldn't remember had beat one. They ate garlic and breathed on it. That must have been why professor Quirrell wanted the Garlic.

Hagrid pulled out a pink umbrella and began counting bricks in the wall above the trashcan. "Three up... two across," he muttered. "Right, stand back, Harry." He tapped the wall three times with the point of his umbrella. The brick he tapped quivered—it wriggled—in the middle, a small hole appeared—it grew wider and wider—a second later they were facing an archway large enough even for Hagrid, an archway onto a cobbled street that twisted and turned out of sight.

"Welcome," Hagrid said, "to Diagon Alley."

Harry liked to think he'd seen a lot of the world. He'd seen some of the largest cities in Asia. He'd lived in the countryside and had played with monsters and creatures that paleontologists would give their right arms just to see. But Harry had never seen anything as fantastic as this hidden street.

With a grin firmly plastered on his face Harry stepped through the archway after Hagrid. The sound of brick sliding on brick caught Harry's ear causing him to look behind him just in time to see the archway close back up.

The First shop Harry could see had cauldrons of all shapes and sizes stacked out front. Cauldrons—All Sizes—Copper, Brass, Pewter, Silver—Self-Stirring—Collapsible, said a sign hanging over them.

"Yeah, you'll be needin' one," Hagrid said, "but we gotta get yer money first."

Harry didn't know where to look, there was so much to take in and it was all incredible. There were people of all shapes and sizes going about their business. An elderly woman was haggling with an apothecary about the price of dragon liver. There was a frenzy of hooting owls in front of Eeylops Owl Emporium as the largest cat Harry had ever seen walked past it. Harry turned his head back so fast that he appeared to have two heads when he noticed that the cat's tail had a tuft at the end like a lion's. Further up ahead a boy about Harry's age was extolling the virtues of the Nimbus 2000 to several other boys with faces plastered to a shop window filled with brooms. Harry heard the boy say that it was the fastest broom ever created. He just had to show this place to Gohan, otherwise he'd never believe it when Harry told him about it. There were shops with barrels full of newt eyes and toad spleens in front. Others had stacks of magic books or gold and silver trinkets, models of the solar system and maps of the moon. Shops sold robes, vials, parchment, quills and ink.

"Gringotts!" Hagrid announced.

They were standing in front of a white marble building with huge bronze doors that stood open. Standing stiffly at attention in front of those doors dressed in red and gold was a little green creature that Harry almost mistook for a saibiman.

"Yeah, that there's a goblin," Hagrid said quietly as he nudged Harry toward the bank. Relieved that it wasn't one of Vegita's plant warriors Harry followed Hagrid toward the bank. The goblin was a head shorter than Harry, had a pointy beard and sinister looking eyes. It also had long fingers and toes all of which ended in claws. As they passed the goblin grinned and bowed in what Harry hoped was a friendly way despite the sharp looking teeth that didn't seem to fit completely in its mouth. Harry made sure to bow back.

Once past the goblin they came to a set of silver doors with words etched in them:

Enter, stranger, but take heed

Of what awaits the sin of greed,

For those who take, but do not earn,

Must pay most dearly in their turn.

So if you seek beneath our floors

A treasure that was never yours,

Thief, you have been warned, beware

Of finding more than treasure there.

'Yeh'd be mad ter try an' rob Gringotts," Hagrid said with a shiver.

Two more goblins bowed to them. Even though Hagrid didn't, Harry bowed back. He didn't want to be rude. Once past the second set of doors they entered a vast hall with over a hundred goblins sitting on high stools behind large marble counter. Harry would have stared wide eyed at the scene in front of him if his attention hadn't been captured by the sound of his name being called.

Harry turned in time to see an athletic looking man running straight at him. With Harry's speed it would have been no trouble to avoid the man barreling toward him, but he hesitated when he saw the smile on the man's face that was so wide it nearly reached his ears. The man obviously meant him no harm. So Harry was surprised when he found himself lifted off the ground and spun around; he had expected the man to stop.

"Harry," tears started to form at the corners of the man's eyes as he lifted Harry as far as he could in the air. "I haven't seen you since you were a baby!" The man's elation at seeing Harry again was evident in his laughter. He started spinning Harry around again, but the exertion of holding Harry up seemed to catch up with him. He grunted and put Harry back down. "You were a lot lighter then."

The hair on the back of Harry's neck stood up from the feeling of so many eyes on him. Forcing himself not to look around, Harry studied this man that claimed to have known him as an infant. He wore blue-jeans and a black leather jacket over his athletic frame. His black hair was cut short and as shiny as his jacket. He wore a goatee and a smile that just wouldn't go away.

Hagrid was looking at the two expectantly. When he saw Harry look at him, he spoke up: "Harry, this here is Sirius black. He was yur' dad's best friend at Hogwarts. An' he's your godfather."

"How do you do sir?" Harry asked politely as he extended his hand.

Sirius would have nothing of it. "Call me Sirius. Sir is what I called your Grandfather, and you don't shake hands with someone that has changed your diapers." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair affectionately then placed his hand on Harry's shoulder. "Well I believe we were here to get money for your school things."

Sirius guided Harry by the shoulder as they followed Hagrid to a counter. Harry couldn't tell how they figured out which one to go to. There weren't any signs that he could see. When they got to the counter, Harry found himself standing in front of what he presumed was a much older goblin. He, if its beard was anything to so by, had grey hair that stuck out in wispy tufts from his head, chin and ears. He also had a larger nose and cars than the younger looking goblins at the door. Harry assumed that like humans, goblin noses and ears never stopped growing, only worse. This goblin wore a heavy knit business suit and a perpetual sneer.

"May I help you," didn't appear to be in the goblin's vocabulary, so Hagrid spoke up. "We'd like to take some money out of Mr. Potter's safe."

"Does Mr. Potter have his key?" the elderly goblin asked suspiciously.

"I've got it," Sirius replied reaching into the inside pocket of his jacket. Sirius handed the key over to the goblin, who scrutinized it carefully before declaring everything appeared in order. Harry wondered if the goblin was disappointed not to find something wrong with it.

"An' I've also got a letter here from Professor Dumbledore," Hagrid said proudly. "It's about the You-Know-What in vault seven hundred and thirteen."

The goblin returned the key to Sirius before he took the letter from Hagrid. "This is the key to your vault. Take very good care of it and above all, don't lose it," Sirius told Harry, handing him the key while the goblin read the letter even more carefully than he'd examined the key. Harry got the impression that whatever was in vault seven-hundred-thirteen was very important.

"Very well," he said, handing it back to Hagrid, "I will have someone take you down to both vaults. Griphook!"

Grip hook was a younger goblin, also dressed in a suit. He guided them to one of the many doors that lined the great hall. Harry had expected more marble, but once they were through the door all he could see was a roughly hewn cave lit by torches on the wall. Grip hook whistled and a mining cart with seats came hurtling up the tracks.

Sirius climbed right in while Harry took that moment to ask Hagrid, "what's the you- know-what in vault seven-hundred-thirteen?"

"Can't tell yeh that," Hagrid said mysteriously as he nudged Harry toward the cart. "Very secret. Hogwarts business. Dumbledore's trusten me. More'n my job's worth ter tell yeh that."

It took a bit of jostling to fit them all in the cart. They weren't quite settled when the cart launched forward down the tracks. The caves were a maze of twisting passages. It didn't take long for Harry to get hopelessly lost. He wondered if even Griphook knew the way, or if the cart took them on its own, because the goblin didn't appear to be steering.

Remembering how Hagrid had handled Mr. Popo's carpet, Harry decided not to try to engage the now slightly green looking giant of a man in conversation. Instead he just leaned back and enjoyed the ride. Beside him, his godfather was doing the same, if his toothy grin and light laughter were anything to go by.

The cart finally came to a stop by a small door built into the cave wall. Once they had all climbed out of the cart, Hagrid had to lean against the wall to steady himself. Griphook asked for Harry's key, which he used to open the vault door.

When the door opened a lot of green smoke billowed out. Once it cleared Harry was shocked to see piles of gold coins along with several columns of silver and mounds of little copper coins. "This is your trust vault," Sirius explained. "Your folks set this aside to take care of you until you graduate from school. Once you turn seventeen you'll get access to the rest of your parents' vaults and properties. There's something you're supposed to see as soon as you turn seventeen in one of them. Don't ask me what it is your dad wouldn't tell me."

Harry looked confused at the explanation for a moment before he finally realized who Sirius was talking about. Harry had never known much about his birth family. He hadn't learned that he was adopted until just before the cell games earlier that year. No one had told him he was adopted until he found that he couldn't become a super-sayain like his brother had. Harry didn't have any saiyan blood and thus couldn't achieve the transformation. So it was a bit of a new concept to think of anyone but Goku and Chichi as his parents.

Sirius and Hagrid helped him gather what they thought would be enough gold to buy his equipment. The gold coins were called Galeons and were worth seventeen sickles, the silver coins, which were in turn worth twenty-nine knuts, the copper coins.

Once they had grabbed enough money they climbed back into the cart. "Vault seven hundred and thirteen now, please, and can we go more slowly?" Hagrid asked timidly.

"One speed only," The goblin replied with a toothy smirk as the cart launched itself down the tracks again.

The cart picked up speed as it took them much deeper underground. Hagrid got even sicker and Sirius laughed even louder. Harry could only guess that they were miles underground when they finally came to a stop in front of a huge door. Before the other occupants of the cart started to stir, Griphook nimbly leapt out. "Stand back," he said importantly as he approached the door, which Harry noticed didn't have a keyhole.

The goblin carefully examined the door before gently running one clawed finger down its length. The door faded away as if it had never been there in the first place. "If anyone but a Gringotts goblin tried that, they'd be sucked through the door and trapped in there," Griphook told them.

"How often do you check to see if anyone's inside?" Harry asked as he climbed out of the cart.

"About once every ten years," the goblin grinned manically. Harry wondered if all goblins acted as vicious as Vegita or if it was just this one.

Harry expected that this huge vault must hold a king's ransom or some incredibly valuable or maybe dangerous artifact. When he finally was able to look inside he saw that the vault was cavernously large and almost empty of all but dust. It took Harry a moment to notice the only contents of the vault, a small grubby bag that Hagrid immediately stepped into the vault and stuffed into one of the voluminous pockets in his coat.

Harry was disappointed not to get a look at whatever the important item was that was being kept in the special vault, but resigned himself to it. He'd soon be studying magic. That would surely be exciting enough for him. Harry tried to convince himself of that the entire trip back. He couldn't seem to manage until he was back outside with pockets fall of gold to spend at the amazing shops that lined the alley in front of him. Then the mysterious bag in Hagrid's pocket slipped to the back of his mind. The only problem was that Harry didn't know where to go first.

"May as well get yer uniform," Hagrid said as he nodded toward Madam Malkin's Robes for All Occasions.

"But that's boring," Sirius griped.

"He'll need to get 'em 'ventually" Hagrid replied

Deciding to play the peace maker Harry chimed in. "Since we got to do it anyway, why don't we do all the boring stuff first."

"Oh, all right," Sirius replied playfully.

"Listen, yeh two, would yeh mind if I slipped off fer a pick-me-up in the Leaky Cauldron? I hate them Gringotts carts." Hagrid looked sick, so Harry agreed. And so did Sirius, but it looked like he was doing his best not to tease the giant man.

So Harry and Sirius walked side by side into Madam Malkin's shop. The proprietor, Madam Malkin was a squat woman dressed in mauve. She greeted them as they entered her shop. "Hogwarts, dear?" she asked before Harry could speak. "Got the whole lot here," she replied when Harry nodded. "Why don't you go stand up on one of those stools and we'll have someone with you in just a moment." She pointed Harry toward a couple of stools standing in front of a mirror.

"And what can I do for you Mr. Black," Madam Malkin asked as Harry passed her.

"Oh, I'm just escorting young Harry to get his school things." Sirius replied suavely.

"Oh my," Madam Malkin exclaimed. "I hadn't thought a man like you would have settled down yet. Who's the lucky lady?"

"He's not mine," Sirus looked terrified by the thought of having a child.

"You don't mean he's…?"

Sirius nodded.

"The poor dear," Madam Malkin muttered what she thought was too softly for Harry to hear as she looked him up and down from across the room. Harry thought he might have seen one of her eyes tear up, but it was gone a second later as her faced turned all business. "Cloe!" Madam Malkin's young assistant stuck her head out of the back room at the Proprietress' call. "Help me fit this young man here for his robes. Nothing but the best for him."

The assistant looked a little put out that her boss needed her help for a single fitting. And the fact that Madam Malkin kept making her mover her pins until everything was perfect. During the whole process Cloe alternated between glaring at her boss while her back was turned and glaring at Sirius when her boss was looking. Harry couldn't figure out why, but she seemed to blame Sirius for the ordeal as much as Madam Malkin. Maybe it was the amused way that Sirius chuckled at the whole spectacle.

Between Madam Malkin's instructions to stand up straighter and straighten his shoulders Harry did his best to stand perfectly still while he and Sirius got to know each other. Harry talked a little about being adopted by his parents and living in the mountains in Asia with his parents and brother. He held back the details of his adventures, particularly the parts about his incredible abilities and having died and been brought back to life with the dragon balls. Sirius seemed to be holding back as well. But it seemed to Harry it was just that it was difficult to tell an eleven year old that you're a rich playboy delicately.

Sirius was telling Harry about how he first met Harry's dad. They were on the train to Hogwarts in a compartment with a bossy witch. Harry didn't hear the rest of the story, because he was distracted by a strange power unlike anything he had ever sensed before. It sent a shiver down his spine.

Sirius looked toward the door after Harry's head suddenly jerked that direction. He saw the door open just as Madam Malkin exclaimed that they were done. A young witch that looked to be Harry's age, or maybe a year younger stepped in followed by her mother. The woman had to coerce a lanky boy to follower her in. He looked like he was walking into his own funeral. Following him two identical older boys walked in with identical smirks, as if they knew some secret joke that no one else did. For a moment the sunlight coming in from the doorway made the five new customers' red hair look like liquid fire.

Harry watched the red-haired family as he paid for his robes and made arrangements to pick them up when they were finished. He couldn't tell which of them the strange power he was feeling came from. He was used to sensing the living energy called ki in all living beings. Harnessing that energy was the source of the extraordinary strength and speed he'd used earlier that day against the bully. He could usually tell exactly how strong an opponent was by the amount of ki they possessed. But, not only did this family seem ordinary enough, but Harry could sense that they had completely normal levels of ki as well. But at least one of them had to be rolling in this strange energy Harry felt. It was unnerving.

Oblivious to Harry's quandary Sirius seemed to be struggling to hold back laughter as his godson began to leave the shop. They almost bumped into Hagrid as they left the shop. He had gotten ice creams for everyone. Harry took one, it turned out to be chocolate and black-berry. Once they started walking away from the shop Harry asked the question he'd been too preoccupied to ask: "What was so funny?"

"Oh, just you and the Potter weakness," Sirius replied nonchalantly. Harry stopped in front of the other two and stared at Sirius blankly. The strange power he felt, but couldn't figure out who it came from, suddenly concerned him a lot more. Even Hagrid looked concerned.

Sirius' grin expanded like an inner-tube being pumped up until it was about to pop. "I can't believe it. You're just like your dad." Sirius exploded with laughter. "You should have seen him Hagrid, trying to check out this red-head witch without her family noticing!"

Harry was slack-jawed. "That's not…" he tried to explain, but he couldn't seem to get the rebuttal out of his mouth.

"No Potter man has been able to resist a red-head in generations, it's a curse." Sirius was still laughing. "And Harry's already checking out the ladies."

"I'm cursed?" Harry felt a fear rush through him.

"Sirius was jus' joken' Harry. Don' pay him no mind." Hagrid said. "We still got lots more ter' buy."

Their next stop was a bookstore called Flourish and Blotts. Once Sirius had stopped laughing he had offered to go pick up a trunk to put all of his things in after Harry had declined his offer to get him introduced to the red-haired girl. Harry got separated from Hagrid as the store got a little more crowded. He bumped into a dark skinned boy with regal looking features who was looking at a section of books that seemed to be mostly about curses. Harry picked up one called: Curses and Countercurses (Bewitch Your Friends and Befuddle Your Enemies with the Latest Revenges: Hair Loss, Jelly-Legs, Tongue- Tying and Much, Much More) by Professor Vindictus Viridian. It was a long title and a brief perusal showed it contained spells that while vicious were mostly childish at best.

"Are you going to Hogwarts as well?" the dark skinned boy asked.

Harry smiled. "Yes."

"How much of this do you suppose they'll teach us?" The dark skinned boy was eyeing a copy of Fight Fire with Fire: a Guide to Curses that Mean Business by Bada Smyth.

"Don't know," Harry said distractedly as he looked over the other titles.

"I hear that the Hogwarts curriculum has always been for the squeamish if you know what I mean." Harry nodded, not absolutely certain if he knew what the other boy was saying. "And I hear this year the _Defense_ teacher is a ninny."

"Professor Querrell," Harry supplied. "I met him. He seemed a little squeamish."

The boy grinned at Harry like he'd just found a coconspirator. "Well I hear the Library is extensive, I guess we'll just have to study on our own if we want to be powerful."

"We'll see," Harry said.

"I guess we will," the boy laughed. "So what's your quidditch team?"

"Quidditch?" Harry asked.

"Yeah, what's your team?" the boy seemed to become suspicious of something.

Harry knew he was going to get in trouble for it, but he had to ask. "What's Quidditch?"

"Where have you been?" the boy seemed flabbergasted. "Wait, you parents…they're our kind right?"

"Asia. And I'm told that my parents were a witch and a wizard if that's what you mean." Something by the way the boy had asked about him bothered him.

"Told?" The dark skinned boy looked scandalized. "Haven't you met your own parents?"

"They died when I was young."

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think…" the other boy seemed to deflate. "Quidditch isn't that popular in Asia, but you should have at least heard about it. Were you raised by muggles or something?"

"Yes."

"But that's terrible." The other boy had to fight to keep his voice down

"I'm quite fond of my family," Harry's voice and gaze were very stern.

"Well, that's as it should be," the boy replied haughtily. "But you're missing so much. They shouldn't be able to put wizard kids with muggles."

"What if there aren't any wizard couples that want to adopt? Should they make wizard orphans grow up in an orphanage?"

The prissy boy had to stop to consider Harry's question. He didn't seem to be able to come to a conclusion and changed the subject. "So have you ever flown on a broom before?"

"You really use a broom to fly?"

"Well you can't play quidditch on a carpet; you wouldn't be able to maneuver well enough. Besides flying carpets are illegal in most of Europe."

Harry decided that this was the perfect opportunity to discreetly see how some of his abilities would be perceived since this boy would just shrug the question off as Harry's lack of knowledge of the magical world. "Why do you need something to fly on?"

"Are you kidding? That's exactly what I was talking about. Magicking yourself is dangerous. One mistake and it could all be over, that's why the Ministry regulates it. This is why they should make muggle-borns go to different schools they don't know our ways and they don't know the first things about magic."

It seemed to Harry that he had made the right decision to hide his abilities. But the boy's reaction made Harry question his knowledge of magic. It must be very different from Ki. There were dangers to harnessing your Ki, but nothing like how dangerous this boy acted like using magic on yourself was. Harry wondered how well his books would explain the nature of magic. It seemed to be fundamentally different than Ki. But more disturbingly in his excitement to learn magic it never occurred to Harry that he might be starting school well behind everyone else because he'd never encountered magic before, but now he thought that he just might be.

When Harry looked up from his musings he saw the dark skinned boy he was talking to walking away next to an exotic looking woman that Harry assumed was the boy's mother. He also saw that Sirius and Hagrid were both walking toward him.

Hagrid saw the book Harry was holding and made him put it back on the shelf. Harry didn't complain, his interest in books had changed since he'd picked that one up. Neither of them saw the smirk on Sirius' face.

Harry kept an eye out for any books that looked like they might answer his questions about what magic fundamentally was and how it was similar to what he knew. Perhaps it was because he had been caught with a book on curses, but Hagrid did his best to make sure Harry stuck to just what was on his list. By the time he had his assigned books and was approaching the sales counter he hadn't found anything.

He asked the pimply faced teenager running an old fashioned looking cash register which of the store's books had the best explanation of the nature of magic. The cashier's eyes lit up as he launched into a rapid description of several books and how they described several different magical theories and the quality of their arithmetic proofs. Harry interrupted the teenager while he was describing the ongoing argument between Alberta Einstein, who was a muggle-born witch descendant of Albert Einstein, and another witch educated at Cambridge (after graduating from Hogwarts) about whether or not the muggle search for the unified field theory was applicable to magic.

"I'm looking for something for a beginner," Harry said

"Beginner?" Harry thought he detected a hint of disdain in the cashier's voice.

"Well your list for Hogwarts includes: The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1) by Miranda Goshawk and Magical Theory by Adalbert Waffling."

"How well do they explain what magic is and how to harnessed and control it?"

"If they're the books tha' the professors a' Hogwarts chose, then ya can bet tha' they're the best," Hagrid chimed in.

"If they're not enough, then you can order something off of here." Harry was sure the cashier was being snide this time as he slid what looked like some kind of order-form across the counter toward him. They looked like a bunch of beginner's guides to Harry, but Sirius found something about them offensive.

"Harry Potter will not be needing any of those," Sirius snarled.

The cashier acted like he'd been scalded by the cold fury Sirius' voice. He slipped the sheet under the counter so fast he accidentally knocked over Harry's books. He tried to gather them up, but he spent so much time goggling at Harry that as soon as he got one book on top of another he'd accidentally knock it off again. After a few seconds of this Sirius got annoyed and snapped out his wand and the books instantly stacked themselves.

Sirius was still muttering when they got out of the store. "If this wasn't the best book store on the alley, I'd never come here again." He turned to Harry. "You're not a squib Harry, you don't need any of those books!" Harry was a little taken back by the anger in Sirius' voice.

"The son of Lilly and James Potter a squib? That's a scandal!" Hagrid's voice boomed.

"What's a squib and what was wrong with those books?" Harry asked timidly.

Pained looks passed over both men's faces. "A squib Harry, is someone with magical parents that can't do magic," Hagrid said gently. "It's very rare, but it does happen."

"Then I could be…?" Harry was a little scared. He'd only really known about magic for a day, but to lose it all just after learning of what he might be able to do seemed a little cruel.

"No, Harry." Sirius was adamant. "I've seen you do incredibly powerful magic when you were a baby. I saw you summon your mum from across the room once, that's powerful magic for a baby to be doing."

"You're sure?" Harry asked.

"Positive," Sirius smiled when Harry looked relieved. "So why were you so dead set on getting an extra book about magic?"

Harry told the two men about the boy he'd talked to in the store and about his concerns about being behind everyone else.

"If tha' boy knew who yeh were, he'd not'a called yeh a squib—he's grown up knowin' yer name if his parents are wizardin' folk." Hagrid said excitedly.

"He didn't, it's just that I don't know very much about magic, because I didn't grow up around it."

"Well don't you worry, he was just trying to sound important, growing up around magic didn't help out me or your dad that much." Sirius put his hand on Harry's shoulder as he spoke. "It was just as hard for us as it was for the muggle-born kids. And you mum was the best witch in our year and she hadn't even heard of real magic or Hogwarts until she got her letter."

"Sirius is right," Hagred agreed. "Everyone starts at the beginnin' a' Hogwarts. An' some o' the best I ever saw were the only ones with magic in 'em in a long line O' Muggles – yer mum especially!"

It's hard to argue with someone when they invoke your own mother as an example, especially when you've never met her. But it's also daunting to have to live up to a parent you've never met. Harry tried to put this out of his mind. Sirius helped a lot with a simple display of magic.

He pulled something the size of a matchbox and with a few muttered words and a wave of his wand it expanded to reveal itself to be a large steamer trunk. They put Harry's books in side and Sirius levitated it behind them. This got them a few stares, but Harry thought this might have been what Sirius had wanted in the first place.

They bought a large sheaf of similar heavy parchment to what his Hogwarts letter had come on as well several old fashioned feathered quills. The wizarding world seemed oblivious to modern stationary and pens. Then they moved to a foul smelling apothecary. Harry had expected there to be fresh, dried and ground leaves and petals to plants he'd seen as well as ones he'd never heard of before, but he hadn't expected all the other strange things that it seemed went into potions. There were body parts of bugs as well as complete ones. And the strangest body parts: cat's and rabbit's paws, snake skins, ground hydra fang, almost any dragon part you could think of and kneasel whiskers; whatever that was. Hagrid asked the shopkeeper to get Harry a kit of common potion ingredients.

From there moved on to buy his remaining supplies, a fancy set of brass scales, a precision telescope kit and finally a cauldron from a shop full to the brim of all different types and sizes of cauldrons. While they were there Sirius had pointed out the window claiming that he'd seen the red-haired girl. Harry had turned around in an instant, bumping into someone and causing them to fall into a stack of cauldrons. With several loud crashes every cauldron in the shop was on the floor. There were several people that peeked into the shop to see what the commotion was about, but none of them had red hair and Harry didn't feel that strange energy very powerfully. Harry wanted to stay and watch the owner magic all the cauldrons back in place, but after hurriedly paying for the standard size #2 pewter cauldron Sirius and Hagrid dragged him out of the store as fast as the could.

They had ran, dragging Harry almost to the entire other side of the alley by the time thy stopped to catch their breath and check Harry's list of school supplies. "Just yer wand left," Hagrid supplied. "Oh yeah, an' I still haven't got yeh a birthday present."

"It's not my birthday yet." Harry was a little embarrassed.

"Yeah, but I polly' won' be able to see yeh again till yeh come ter Hogwarts. Tell yeh what, I'll get yer animal. Not a toad, toads went outta fashion years ago, yeh'd be laughed at…"

"Not a rat!" Sirius interrupted.

"No, not a rat," Hagrid agreed, "an' I don' like cats, they make me sneeze."

Sirius snickered at this.

"What's so funny?" Harry asked. "Lots of people are allergic to cats."

"It's just that Hagrid here, has always loved animals; the bigger and more dangerous the better. I reckon if it weren't illegal he'd want his very own dragon."

"Crikey, I'd like a dragon," Hagrid muttered.

Sirius laughed harder. "See! And to think that something as small and harmless as a kitten could bring Hagrid down. That's just funny!"

Harry smiled. It was a little funny.

"I know," Hagrid piped in. "I'll get yer an owl. All the kids want owls; they're dead useful, carry yer mail an' everythin'."

So with that they trekked most of the way back across the Diagon Alley to Eeylops Owl Emporium. On the way Sirius presented Harry with his gift. It was an assortment of magical joke products from a place called Zonko's. Sirius chuckled sinisterly as Harry looked though the various items. He waited until Hagrid wasn't paying attention to wink and tell Harry to make him proud.

When they arrived at their destination, the shop was dark and filled with the deep throaty sounds of the owls' voices and the rustling of feathers. The smell wasn't particularly pleasant either. After looking through the store twice, Harry was the happy owner of the most beautiful white owl he'd ever seen. He couldn't thank Hagrid enough.

The last thing they had on the list was the most exciting: a wand. For that there was only one place to go according to Hagrid and Sirius. That was Olivander's, the best maker of wands in all of Britain. The shop itself was unassuming, if not shabby. Ollivander's: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C. the sign read in gold letters that were peeling off. And in the window a single wand rested on a faded pillow that Harry assumed had once been imperial purple.

The inside of the shop looked plain; a long counter faced the door with shelves filled with hundreds if not thousands of narrow boxes on shelves. But to Harry it crackled with a strange energy, not unlike what he felt from the red-haired family they'd encountered. It was if the dust that covered the floor and swirled in the air had absorbed the magic of the place.

Harry sensed someone approach from the back of the shop before he heard a quiet voice, "Good Afternoon."

Harry heard a loud squeaking sound as the chair in the corner was vacated along with the scuffling sounds of Hagrid and Sirius' feet. The old leathery-faced man who now stood in front of them had managed to surprise them. "Hello," Harry said, as he looked the old man over carefully. His silver hair was wispy and his pail eyes almost looked blind, but something in his face led Harry to believe that the old man saw things that most others could not.

"Ah yes," the man said. "Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter." Harry wondered how some people could recognize him instantly, while others couldn't tell him from any other normal school boy. "You have your mother's eyes. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work."

The older man stepped closer to Harry. "Your father, on the other hand, favored a Mahogany wand. Eleven inches. Pliable. A little more power and excellent for transfiguration. Well, I say your father favored it—it's really the wand that chooses the wizard, of course."

The older man that Harry assumed was Mr. Olivander stepped so close that Harry had to stop himself from throwing him or stepping back. But Mr. Olivander was staring at something so intently he didn't dare move lest it interfere with something important.

"And that's where..." the old man whispered as he touched the spot on Harry's forehead where Harry's lightning bolt shaped scar resided. "I'm sorry to say I sold the wand that did it," he said softly. "Thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Powerful wand, very powerful, and in the wrong hands...well, if I'd known what that wand was going out into the world to do..." Olivander shook his head and seemed to notice Harry's companions for the first time.

"Rubeus! Rubeus Hagrid! How nice to see you again... Oak, sixteen inches, rather bendy, wasn't it?"

"It was, sir, yes," Hagrid replied.

"Good wand, that one. But I suppose they snapped it in half when you got expelled?" Mr. Ollivander was suddenly stern.

"Er—yes, they did, yes," Hagrid sounded guilty. "I've still got the pieces, though," he added brightly.

"But you don"t use them?" Mr. Ollivander said sharply.

"Oh, no, sir," Hagrid said quickly. Harry noticed he gripped the pink umbrella that he'd used to open the arch to the alley very protectively.

Mr. Olivander gave Hagrid a firm and possibly somewhat disbelieving stare before he turned to Sirius. "And young Sirius Black—Ebony eight and a half inches, very rigid, well suited for dueling. I presume you're taking good care of it?"

Sirius drew his wand out of his jacket sleeve with a flourish and smiled. "And she's taken good care of me."

Mr. Olivander looked over the wand taking careful note of each ding, divot and groove that time had worn into it. "I see that in the past you used to do quite a bit of dueling with it. If you find yourself planning on doing so again, I find that Mr. Widowmaker makes the most spell resistant polish."

"Well now, Mr. Potter, which is your wand arm?" Olivander turned back to Harry just as suddenly as he'd switched to his interrogation of the other two. He pulled a measuring tape out of a pocket.

"I'm right handed…" Harry began what he intended to be a question about which hand should he use for his wand while fighting, but Mr. Olivander interrupted him.

"Hold out your arm. That's it." The elderly man then took several different measurements of his arm and right side in general. He even measured around his head. As he measured, he said, "Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand."

Mr. Ollivander got up and walked away, but Harry noticed that the tape kept measuring him on its own. It took some interesting measurements while the shop owner was looking over some of the narrow boxes, including between his nostrils and the length of his eyebrows.

"That will do," Olivander said, and the tape fell limp to the floor. "Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one, Beachwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. Just take it and give it a wave."

Harry looked at the wand, he hefted it to feel its weight then spun it with his fingers easily before waving it in a way that he hoped was majestic. Mr. Ollivander didn't even let him finish before he yanked it out of his hand mid-wave. "No! That won't do at all, though I think I'll have to see your wand work once you've learned a bit."

"Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy. Try…"

That one was taken out of Harry's hand just as quickly, as was the next one: ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Harry didn't know what Mr. Ollivander was looking for, as he couldn't see the difference. Maybe something was supposed to happen. But as the pile of discarded wands grew higher nothing did. Except the grin on Mr. Ollivander's face grew wider. "Tricky customer eh," the old man smirked. "Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere…I wonder, now…yes, why not…unusual combination…holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple."

Harry knew there was something different about this wand as soon as he touched it. He felt its power in his hand and as he gripped it he felt a power inside himself that before today he wouldn't have recognized as his own. He held it high above his head and solemnly swung it down in an arc. Red and gold sparks flew out its end like some kind of firework. Hagrid and Sirius cheered.

"Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious..." Mr. Ollivander started to mutter. He placed the wand back in its box and wrapped it, still muttering about how curious it was.

"Excuse me sir," Harry was a little hesitant to interrupt the elderly man's muttering. "But what is so curious?"

Mr. Ollivander looked up and the intent stare he gave Harry brooked no nonsense. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar."

Harry blinked.

"Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches, yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.… I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things—terrible yes, but great."

Harry paid the seven galleons for his wand and left the store in silence, not knowing what to say after Mr. Ollivander's declaration. No one else seemed to know what to say either, even Sirius, who obviously wanted to say something as soon as the door shut behind them.

"Now Harry don't you worry too much about all that…Some times magic seems to have a will of its own…Almost like it's alive. Most likely the phoenix that gave that feather would have wanted to protect you from what the other feather was used for."

"Or maybe it wants me to right the wrongs that have been done with its other feather," Harry replied.

"Oh, don' yeh go worryin' about tha'," Hagrid said before Sirius could reply.

"Hagrid's right," Sirius interjected, concern written on his face. "You don't need to be worrying about chasing after You-Know-Who. Leave that to us. You just worry about having fun at school. Just try and keep your grades up too."

"Ok," Harry began, but Sirius and Hagrid could tell that there was more. "It's just daunting. Everyone seems to expect so much from me and I don't know the first thing about magic. And I'm not a hero. My brother and my dad are heroes, but not me. Everyone thinks so highly of me for something I can't even remember. How will I be able to keep from letting everyone down?"

Sirius waited for Harry to finish speaking before he knelt down so they were at eye level. "Harry," Sirius put his hands on Harry's shoulders. "Like Hagrid said, everyone starts at the beginning at Hogwarts. And your teachers aren't going to expect you to know any more than anyone else. Being a celebrity isn't easy. Being different isn't easy. You will be singled out by some of your classmates. But if you ever need to talk to anyone about it, Hagrid's going to be right there. I'm sure he'll be happy to help you through it." Hagrid voiced a firm affirmative.

"If you want to talk to me about it all you have to do is owl. You might not believe this, but I'm a little famous myself. I'll understand what you're going through. But in the end the people who love you are going to love you for what's right here." Sirius thumped Harry's chest. "Everyone else who can't see the real Harry Potter through their image of the _boy who lived_ or who expect more from you than you have to give…well don't you worry about them. In the end you only need to worry about living up to your standards, nobody else's."

"Thanks," Harry said emotionally. He wasn't sure why he felt so much better. Sirius hadn't said people weren't going to expect any less of him. But that didn't seem to be so important from his perspective anymore. And he really appreciated the support that was being offered.

Sirius gave him a hug and stood back up. Then after double-checking Harry's list they confirmed that they had everything Harry would need. Sirius asked why they weren't getting a broom, but Hagrid showed him where the list stated that first years aren't allowed brooms. Sirius didn't seem to understand why that should stop anyone, but gave in. The question reminded Harry to ask about quidditch, so they ended up spending over a half hour in Quality Quidditch Supplies where Sirius tried to describe the world's greatest sport in detail and going over the handling of the different model of brooms on the market. It wasn't Martial Arts, but Sirius' enthusiasm was contagious.

Hagrid finally pulled them out and led them back through Muggle London to the tube station they'd arrived in. They discussed the magical world in hushed, but excited tones the whole way. When they finally got back to where they'd left the flying carpet it wasn't there.

Sirius seemed disappointed to miss seeing a real flying carpet as he'd heard of them, but never actually seen one. Hagrid seemed to be becoming distraught that he'd failed Dumbledore, because he couldn't get Harry back home.

"Don't worry," Harry told Hagrid. "I'm sure Mr. Popo just called his carpet back, because he knew that I would be able to get home on my own." Harry then casually reached out his hand and caught his trunk that now held all of his new possessions as it flew straight to his hand. He flung the trunk over his shoulder and placed first two fingers of his other hand on his forehead over his scar. "Thanks for everything. I'll see you again. Bye." Harry waved at them as his body flickered and disappeared.

* * *

End chapter 2 

Out-Take:

"The son of Lilly and James Potter a squib? That's a scandal!" Hagrid's voice boomed. Harry didn't know what a squib was, but Hagrid's shouted denials were a little embarrassing. And it didn't go unnoticed by the other passer-bys in the alley.

The family of red-heads they'd seen during Harry's fitting chose that moment to walk by. And apparently they'd heard, because the youngest one of them, the girl stomped up to them. "Harry Potter is not a squib, and I'll hex anyone who says different!" She gave Harry, Sirius and Hagrid each their own threatening look, as if daring them to contradict her.

Sirius cracked first. "I didn't say he was a squib."

"Then who did?" the little girl demanded authoritatively.

Sirius couldn't help himself. "He did," Sirius pointed at Harry.

No sooner than he'd done this than the little girl reached back into her mother's pocket and pointed her mother's wand at Harry. Sirius was so shocked he didn't hear the incantation. There was a loud bang and a pail green light flew out of the end of the wand and hit Harry in the face. The girl stormed off, wand in hand without even bothering to see the results of her handiwork.

"Ginerva Molly Weasley! You come back here this instant!" The matronly woman yelled and began to stalk after her daughter.

The lanky boy just looked at Harry for a moment and then just shook his head as if this was the obvious fate of anyone that would even hint that Harry Potter might be a squib, and followed after his mother and sister.

The two identical older boys stayed and tried not to laugh too hard. Sirius couldn't blame them. When the curse had hit Harry, large green slimy things had climbed out of his nose and were now flying with the aid of bat-like wings and clawing at the oblivious boy's face almost unnoticed. Sirius couldn't take it. He laughed so hard he couldn't stand, so he slid down the wall behind him until he was sitting on the ground almost rolling with laughter.

"Sorry about our sister mate," one of the twins said. "She's a little mad about Harry Potter," the other continued. "Fancies him we think," they both said in unison.

Sirius couldn't stop laughing. "Then I wonder what she'll do when she finds out that she just cursed him in the face!"

* * *

As I mentioned in my initial disclaimer, I quoted the book several times here, because I wanted to keep the feel of some of the original dialog. I anticipate this will happen some more, but hopefully not as often as in this chapter. 


	3. Platform 9 34

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

See Chapter 1 and remember, if you're charging people to read this, the crystal ball knows who you are, and soon some really nasty, goblin-like lawyers will too.

* * *

Chapter 3: The Journey from Platform Nine and Three-quarters

* * *

The day after Harry's shopping trip Professor Dumbledore sat in his office pondering the news his gamekeeper had brought him the night before. Hagrid had returned with the item intact and had nothing but praise for the boy he'd taken to get his school things. But now Dumbledore wished he'd have gone himself. It had been the perfect cover for Hagrid to pick up the item secretly. Everyone looked down on him oddly enough for his giant size, and as long as he was doing something else, no one would suspect him of being Dumbledore's agent.

But it wasn't the item Hagrid had retrieved that Dumbledore was interested in; it was the remarkable young boy. He knew he couldn't have gone. If he'd have gone the people that were guarding the item would have known he'd taken it and secrecy was vital to the item's protection. And even if Hagrid was right and having the headmaster of the school take him to collect his school supplies wouldn't give the boy a big head, the boy would have detractors that would complain that he was getting special treatment. It was sure to happen eventually, there was no need to give them ammunition this early. Mr. Potter's life would go much smoother if his grand reentrance into the wizarding world after all of these years was free of bad publicity.

He had originally planned to make his own observations about Harry Potter when he arrived at the school. There would be plenty of opportunities to see the measure of the man the boy was becoming, but now it seemed so much more important. Wizard children whether raised by wizard or muggle parents usually displayed magical talent before coming to school, but remarkably almost none ever learned to control their magic on their own without a wand. He had his theories about this. In the wizarding world it seemed that the idea that a wand was essential to magic was so ubiquitous that wizard children almost never tried to intentionally use their magic without. They were more likely to steal one of their parent's wands and experiment with it. In the muggle world he suspected that most children ignored or doubted their magical abilities, because they didn't fit with how they perceived their world. Like their muggle parents they explain away what they see or ignore it, because they don't believe it could be possible.

But Dumbledore himself had met one wizard that had learned to have some limited control over his magic before he learned about the wizarding world—just one. Oh, he suspected a couple of others may have and he never found out, but he knew of only one. One that had gone on to call himself Lord Voldemort. One that had mounted a new kind of reign of terror that Britain and much of Europe hadn't recovered from.

But according to Hagrid, young Harry, who had bemoaned his lack of magical knowledge, had without the aid of a wand summoned a heavy trunk straight to him and hung it over his shoulder as if it were a sack of pillows. The young Voldemort had told him when they first met that he could make filings move. Young Harry's trunk had definitely been more than a filing. And to aparate himself to somewhere in Asia, even over the course of a day, let alone in one jump, was more than many fully trained adult wizards could hope to do.

There had been a prophecy made before the boy was born. It has spoken of them being equals. But it never said anything about whether the boy would be light or dark; only that the two would be opposed. And if Harry was already this powerful, it suddenly felt more urgent to know about his disposition. Would he have to try to turn this boy away from the dark path as he had failed to do for the other?

Hagrid was convinced that Harry was the kindest boy one could meet, but the boy that had become Voldemort had charmed everyone at Hogwarts as well. Dumbledore had asked about the environment the boy had grown up in. All Hagrid could say was that he had a stern mother. But something about his description of the woman bothered Dumbledore. If a common woman had offered to fist-fight Hagrid of all people, he just didn't know what to think about her.

It seemed to the good Professor that every time he learned patience he had to learn some more. He would just have to wait until the young Harry Potter arrived before he would have the answers to his questions.

* * *

Sirius Black spent days hunting down his reclusive friend. Remus Lupin could be hard to find. Sirius found the prematurely graying man in a run down apartment building in Scotland. The down on his luck wizard had been going wherever he could find work, often in the muggle world due to his condition. He wouldn't accept handouts, even from his wealthy friends. 

But Sirius' excitement had known no bounds. Even after the several day long hunt to find his last remaining friend Sirius couldn't contain his glee as he regaled his friend with descriptions of their deceased friend's son, Harry Potter.

Remus didn't know when he'd last seen Sirius this happy. When James and Lilly had died with Harry missing he'd take it hard. Sirius was taking care of himself now, but the last Remus had seen the old dog, he was a shadow of his former self. Remus had told his friend to get serious with someone and settle down and start a family. It was something that due to his condition he could never do safely, but he hoped it would help his friend.

Now after seeing how happy Sirius was after one day with young Harry, Remus was sure he'd been right about his friend. Though he definitely had to admit that the casual display of magic Sirius told him about was impressive. James and Lilly's boy had always been special to all of them. They'd thought any bit of magic the boy had managed was exceptional no matter how small. But if what Sirius said was true they young man was exceptional, he wished he could have seen it.

But Sirius seemed to be more excited about Harry and the little red-headed girl. He seemed so excited about Harry's interest that Remus wasn't convinced that it wasn't more an issue of what Sirius wanted to see than what actually happened. Either way he was happy for both Harry and Sirius.

* * *

September 1st found Harry sitting on his trunk in the middle of Kings Cross Station in London. The sun was up now. It hadn't been when Harry had arrived. For that matter it hadn't even been September when he'd arrived thanks to the over seven hour time difference between where he lived and his mother insisting that he leave early in the morning for a trip that he could make in less than an hour flying.

But boredom wasn't Harry's problem right now. If it was he could probably just read one of the several books in his trunk. He'd read them all before, his mother had insisted that he read all of his textbooks to familiarize himself with the material before showing up at school. She'd also insisted that he go back to the bookstore to buy some more books on the wizarding world. He'd picked up a book on manners, recent history as well as a few other topics that Harry had thought would be interesting and even a couple of issues of a newspaper called the Daily Prophet. He'd left the newspapers and several of the books at home as he didn't think that they'd be useful. He could even reread the copy of Quidditch Through the Ages that Sirius had sent him. Harry thought it would be fun to watch a game if it required as much aerial acrobatics as he suspected. It would probably be more fun to play. But boredom wasn't Harry's problem

Harry couldn't find his platform. The ticket he'd been given said platform nine and three-quarters. He was sitting on his trunk in between platforms nine and ten waiting for the ticket inspector or guard to change. He'd asked several of them about a train to Hogwarts or a train that left at eleven o'clock. He'd even risked asking about platform nine and three-quarters directly. No one seemed to know about Hogwarts or where it was, there was no train leaving at eleven o'clock and the person he'd dared to ask about platform nine and three-quarters had gotten angry with him. Harry tried to placate the man by showing him the ticket, but he'd just gotten angrier and tried to take the _fake_ ticket from Harry. Harry didn't let him.

Harry didn't think it helped that the way he was dressed showed that he was a foreigner. He'd wanted to wear some more western clothes, but his mother had insisted that he wear a green Chinese silk shirt that she said brought out his eyes. This one had gold embroidered fastenings. He was getting strange looks from several passers-by and most of the train station employees looked at him strangely now. He didn't think he could ask any of them for help anymore.

Harry hoped he could run into a friendly witch or wizard to help him. Sirius said he was going to be waiting for him. Where was he? Harry had even seen Hermione and her parents. He had wanted to ask if they knew how to get on the platform, but they'd run into the same boy Harry had kept from hitting her before. Harry ended up distracting the boy, which was pretty easy, as the boy had become completely terrified of Harry once he turned around. Unfortunately by the time Harry had turned back to where Hermione and her family had been they had disappeared.

Time was running out. It was ten minutes to eleven and he still hadn't found the platform. Then he felt it, that strange energy he was starting to think might be magic itself. He started looking for anyone that might be a wizard or witch while trying to locate the source of this power. That was when he saw them, six redheads.

"…packed with Muggles, of course…" said the short matronly woman, as she guided on little girl and four boys with trunks through the crowd. This looked like the family he saw in the robe shop and even if they weren't the same, they have to be magical if they're talking about muggles.

"Now what's the platform number?" the boys' mother asked. "Platform nine and three-quarters," the read headed girl, who was holding her mother's hand said excitedly. "Can't I go too?" she pleaded.

"You're not old enough, Ginny, now be quiet. All right, Percy, you go first."

The oldest looking boy, who Harry was sure he hadn't seen in the shop marched away from his family, pushing his card in front of him in a thoroughly dignified manner. Harry was certain that he was about to see how to get onto the platform, but a large group of people exited a train got in between Harry and the red headed boy. When he could finally see where the boy had been, he was gone.

"Fred, you next," Harry heard the woman say

"I'm not Fred, I'm George," the boy said. "Honestly, woman, you call yourself our mother? Can't you tell I'm George?"

"Sorry, George, dear."

"Only joking, I am Fred," the cheeky boy rushed off, his twin calling for him to hurry as if they were trying to escape from their mother's wrath for their little joke. Whatever the reason they were too fast for Harry to see through the crowd.

Harry was out of options, so he stood up and grabbed his trunk by one of the handles and swung it around, over his shoulder until it was hanging over his back as he stepped up to the redheaded family. He wasn't sure why he'd been so clandestine about it when he could have just asked for help in the first place. He didn't want to give Sirius anything more to encourage him to tease him about the little redheaded girl, but this was too important for that to stop him. It had to be the strange power that he could just barely sense from them. It was eerily different from anything he'd sensed before he'd stepped on Diagon Alley. He'd felt it strongly at Ollivander's and when he'd been looking for it he found traces of it around the alley when he went back with Gohan for his other books. But the faint energy still made the hair on the back of his neck stand up and gave him this ache between his shoulder blades like there was a sword tip just a hairs breadth away from stabbing him in his back.

"Excuse me," Harry interrupted the woman before she could direct her next son through to the platform.

"Hello, dear," she said. "First time at Hogwarts? Ron's new, too." She pointed to her remaining son, who was taller than Harry and gangly, like he hadn't completely grown into his body.

"Yes," Harry bowed. "The thing is no one told me how to get on the platform."

The red-heads didn't seem to know how to handle Harry's strange behavior. Harry knew to expect that, but his mother had thoroughly trained his manners into him. The girl curtsied and Harry smiled at her as her mother continued speaking.

"Not to worry, all you have to do is walk straight at the barrier between platforms nine and ten. Don't stop and don't be scared you'll crash into it, that's very important. Best do it at a bit of a run if you're nervous. Go on, go now before Ron."

Harry was a little hesitant to follow the red-haired woman's instructions. He knew that with his incredible strength he could run right through a brick barrier. Taking a deep calming breath Harry stepped toward the barrier slowly. He hoped that being slow wouldn't interfere with whatever the magic or trick was for getting on the platform. The worst that could happen was that he got covered in rubble right?

When he got to the barrier he gently placed his foot against the barrier between the platforms expecting to meet resistance, but his toe just disappeared into the wall. Breathing deeply he just walked the rest of the way through.

It was pitch black inside the barrier. He stopped and waved his hand in front of his face, but he couldn't even see it. Not wanting to be stuck he took two more steps before he was dazzled by the light.

Directly ahead of him he could see a shiny red steam engine. The platform was filled with children and parents bustling on and off the train, talking in groups, hugging and waving their goodbyes. Their dress varied from sharp business suits, to T-shirts and jeans, to robes of every color. Harry didn't get a chance to take much of it in, because someone was calling his name.

Sirius black nearly tackled him again. He wrapped his arms around Harry and tried to lift him up, but the heavy trunk Harry had over his shoulder kept the older man from being very successful. "Let's get your stuff on the train." Sirius began to guide Harry toward the back of the train. "Harry, where have you been? I've been looking for you for over an hour?"

"Did you think to look outside?" Harry asked.

"No," Sirius looked sheepish. "What were you doing out there?"

"I've been trying to find out how to get in here since last night."

"Why did you get here so early?" Sirius looked perplexed, but Harry was pretty sure he was trying to direct the conversation away from his and Hagrid's omission.

"Mum wanted to be sure I came early and with the time difference I got here just before midnight."

"Your mum?" It took Sirius a moment to remember that Harry had been adopted after his parents' death.

"It's actually a little strange for me too. Until now I never knew anything about my birth parents." Harry was a little hesitant.

"You know no one is trying to take your parents away from you," Sirius said. "We just want to be a part of you life too." Sirius didn't know if he'd been able to express what he meant until Harry muttered a quiet thank you. But somber wasn't Sirius' strength. "So how did you find out how to get through?" Sirius asked loudly.

"I had to ask that family we saw in Madam Malkin's how to get through."

Harry knew it was coming before Sirius even opened his mouth. "I told you Harry, I could have gotten you introduced to that red-haired girl if wanted me to."

Before Harry could make another rebuttal about his alleged illicit interest in the little red-haired girl a voice interrupted their conversation. "Hey, what exactly are you intentions toward our baby sister?"

Harry saw the girl's two twin brothers looking at him in a way they seemed to think would be casually menacing. He didn't bother to answer and just climbed into the last car and started toward the last compartment. Fortunately or unfortunately Sirius had an answer for him. "Oh, it's just that no Potter has fallen in love with a girl that didn't have red hair in a dozen or so generations."

Sirius had intended to let the two boys stew over that as he followed Harry on the train to help him with his trunk. However the twins didn't appear to be content to be left behind. They all caught up with Harry in time to see him jump up slightly and slide his trunk into one of the overhead compartments. It was a deceptively easy looking feat.

"Are you really him?" one of the twins asked with more than a little hint of awe in his voice.

"Who?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure they knew who he was.

"Harry Potter," the other twin supplied.

"Oh, no…" Harry smirked. "I'm just Harry Potter."

Sirius laughed as the twin boys looked Harry up and down suspiciously. "Then you better be good," one of them started. "To our sister," the other finished.

Harry just sighed and shook his head. "Look," he said exasperatedly. "I'm eleven years old, it's a little early for me to be worrying too much about what girl I'm going to fall in love with."

The twins looked like they knew something he didn't and were about to rebut what Harry had said, but where interrupted by a woman's voice yelling "Fred? George? Are you there?"

One of them stepped past Harry and opened the window. "Coming mother!" he called. Then the twins walked of shaking their heads, talking to each other about something too quietly for Harry to hear. But Harry did manage to hear them saying something about not being able to get away so easily as they passed under the compartment window.

Sirius obviously wanted to say something, but seemed to be having trouble figuring out what. "I wish I could go with you kid…maybe I'll apply next time there's a teaching position open."

Harry was about to tell Sirius that maybe he find a girl himself and get a life of his own when he heard a familiar shrill voice. "…If I get one more owl telling me you've – you've blown up a toilet or…"

Harry and Sirius looked out the window to see one of the twins answer their mother. "Blown up a toilet? We've never blown up a toilet."

"Great idea though, thanks, Mom," the other finished.

Harry and Sirius both pulled their heads in and threw themselves on the nearest seat before they laughed. After a moment of laughter Sirius got up and swatted Harry on the arm. "I'm afraid I've got to let you get going." But instead of telling him not to get into trouble he said: "Don't get caught."

Harry sat back down and tried to fight his apprehension about everything that was happening. He looked out the window when he heard one of the twins say his name. He looked out the window in just in time to see the little redhead girl bouncing excitedly. "Oh, Mom, can I go on the train and see him, Mom, oh please..."

Harry quickly looked for Sirius to see if he'd seen it. If he had, Harry had little doubt that he'd be receiving formal introductions very shortly. And Sirius lived up to expectations. "Looks like she wants to meet you, maybe I should ask her if she wants to be introduced."

"Sirius do you have any idea what my mum would do to me if she thought I was spending my time chasing girls instead of doing my homework?"

Sirius started to say something back, but stopped when the whistle blew. Harry looked up toward the front of the train where the sound comes from and saw each of the redheaded boys sticking their heads out of the train and their mother kissing them good-bye.

"I bet we could get the little redhead to kiss you goodbye," Sirius whispered in Harry's ear just as the train started moving. Harry turned back to see Sirius leering at him. Behind him he heard the red headed family shouting their good-natured goodbyes.

"Don't, Ginny, we'll send you loads of owls."

"We'll send you a Hogwarts toilet seat."

"George!"

"Only joking, Mom."

Trying not to laugh Harry yelled goodbye to Sirius and looked forward before he pulled his head back into his compartment. He saw the boys' sister laughing through her tears as she chased the train. The scene was poignant and reminded Harry about how much he was going to miss his brother. If the girl had five older brothers it would probably be a bit of a shock to not have any of them around, and from the looks of it she was the youngest, so it would be just her. Harry could sympathize with her. Even when Mr. Piccolo had left Harry and Gohan alone in the monster infested wilderness of Yonzabit Heights they'd still had each other. They'd always had each other. Harry remembered that for the eight months he'd trained with Mr. Piccolo in the hyperbolic time chamber he'd missed his brother terribly. But then he'd been with Mr. Piccolo, now he wouldn't even have him.

"Is anyone sitting there?" Harry looked up to see the youngest redheaded boy standing in the doorway of the compartment. His mother had said his name was Ron. "Everywhere else was full."

Harry nodded his head. He could really use a good distraction from his worries. He was trying to figure out how to start a conversation when the redheaded twins stuck their heads back in the compartment. "Hey, Ron. Listen, we're going down the middle of the train—Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," mumbled Ron. Harry wondered if he was upset about being left alone on the train trip.

"Harry," the other twin said, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasley. And this is Ron, our brother. See you later, then."

"Are you really him?" Ron asked as soon as he was sure his brothers were gone.

"Who?" Harry asked even though he was pretty sure Ron knew who he was.

"Harry Potter,"

"Yes…" Harry answered.

Ron immediately looked up to Harry's bare forehead to look at the scar. Harry wasn't aware of this, but since his first trip to Diagon Alley the news had been full of all the details they could find about him and the fact that he was going to Hogwarts. And where there wasn't information the news had been full of supposition. His scar was no exception. "Was that really where you-know-who…?"

"Don't know." Harry ran his fingers through his hair making it stand up more. It was a habit he'd picked up when he was young to make his hair look like the spiky hair that all sayains, including his father and brother had. "I've had it since I can remember, so it could be. That sounds cooler than if I got it falling down or something anyway."

Ron laughed. "Are you really as strong as Fred and George said?"

"I'm not a sissy if that's what you're asking," Harry replied trying to sound casual. He did not want people asking about how strong he was until he was sure that there wouldn't be problems with people accepting him. So he decided to change the subject to something that was a bit less risky and more interesting to him. "So, are all your family wizards?"

"Er—Yes, I think so," Ron said. "I think Mom's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"What's it like, how much magic do you already know?" Harry was actually very interesting in what wizard life was like, and what it would be like to live in a house where everyone could do magic.

"Not much," Ron obviously didn't share Harry's enthusiasm. He just couldn't think of his home life as exciting. "Mum taught my sister some cleaning spells, but I've only learned a couple of spells that work."

Harry nodded his head at that. He was honestly surprised though he didn't show it. He wondered if that was normal. He would have expected that Wizards would teach their kids all kinds of magic. "I feel sorry for your sister. I already miss my brother and I haven't been gone very long. Must be worse in a big family, your sister being used to having four brothers."

"Six counting me." For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left—Bill was head boy and Charlie was captain of the Quidditch team. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're really funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do, it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new, either, with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

Harry could see that Ron had really wanted to get that off his chest. "Well, my brother and I are only six months apart, so we don't have hand me downs, though we do share a lot. But at least you can do what your brothers have done if you want to. I'll never be able to do what my brother has done."

Ron seemed confused. "You have a brother, no one ever talks about you having a brother?"

"Oh, well I was adopted after my birth parents died." Harry didn't know why he felt a little uneasy mentioning it

"Oh, Are they Wizards?"

"No, they're Muggles." Harry started to brace himself for if Ron reacted like the other boy.

"What are they like?" Ron seemed to be genuinely curious.

"Well they're not normal for muggles, they're martial artists, so we spent a lot of time learning how to fight."

"So that's what makes you so strong, yeah?" Ron asked excitedly. "And you could probably even beat-up a guy that was loads stronger than you?"

"Well not too much stronger than me," Harry said uneasily. "That's why I won't ever be as strong as my brother."

"But you're a wizard, you can do loads that he won't be able to do."

"But will it make a difference?" Harry mumbled dejectedly.

"Sure it will," Ron said confidently. "This is magic we're talking about. You just give it a couple of years and you're brother won't know what hit him."

Harry hoped so. He knew this was his only chance to catch up to his brother. But Ron had never seen Gohan fight. He was so powerful Harry didn't know if even magic would enable him to bridge the gap. But Harry couldn't really let Ron know that. "And we'll just have to find something that you're brothers have never done." Harry said, trying to push his uncertainty to the back of his mind.

"But what's left for me to do?"

"This is magic we're talking about," Harry responded. "There's got to be tons of things you can do with magic that you're brothers never tried. We just have to find the one for you."

They spent the next hour talking about all the things you could do with magic and what Ron's brothers had and hadn't done. Harry wasn't much help here, because he wasn't familiar with magic. He thought it was cool that Ron's brother Charley took care of dragons. And he thought that raiding ancient tombs and sneaking past all kinds of magical traps would be much more exciting than the way muggles did archeology.

Harry of course couldn't escape his upbringing and had suggested that he and Ron could train to be great fighters. From there Ron had told him about how wizards dueled and how they sometimes had championships. Harry didn't say anything, but he didn't think that wizard dueling was for him if you couldn't punch the guy you were fighting. But Ron really liked the idea. So after they ran out of ideas Harry drifted off into sleep while Ron sat with his eyes glazed over with dreams of being an international dueling champion.

Harry woke to the sound of something rattling outside the door. The door to the compartment slid open and a smiling woman with big dimples asked if they wanted anything of the cart. Harry had already eaten the sandwiches his mother had packed for breakfast while he was trying to get on the platform in London and now he was ravenous. He'd had western sweets several times before, but they had never been anything like what he saw on the lady's cart. There were Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans, Drooble's Best Blowing Gum, Chocolate Frogs, Pumpkin Pasties, Cauldron Cakes, Licorice Wands, and a number of other strange things. Hungry and not wanting to miss out on anything he bought plenty of everything. After paying the lady one galleon and 12 knuts, it took Harry two trips to dump all of his bounty on an empty seat.

Ron looked impressed. "Hungry?" he asked. His eyes were wide enough that you couldn't be sure that he wasn't concerned that Harry might take a bite out of him next.

"Starving," Harry replied.

Ron pulled out his lunch and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. After he examined the insides of one of them he muttered a complaint about roast beef.

"I'll trade you a couple of pumpkin pasty's for a couple of your sandwiches," Harry offered.

"You don't want one of these, they're dry." Ron grumbled.

"All right four pastys for two of your sandwiches," Harry responded. "I ate all of mine for breakfast while I was looking for the platform."

Ron finally caved in at six pasties for half of his sandwiches, but in the end they both ended up eating whatever they wanted from Harry's sweets. Though unlike Ron, Harry ate his share of the sandwiches.

Harry opened a box of what was labeled a chocolate frog. The idea of a chocolate flavored frog didn't bother him, but when the frog jumped out of the box and managed to escape out the window he had to ask Ron if they were alive, as the idea of eating a live frog did bother him.

"Nah, they're just chocolate, but they're enchanted to jump once or twice once they're out of the box." Ron answered. "But never mind that, who's on the card? I'm missing Aggripa."

Relieved and excited to see even that simple a feat of magic, Harry didn't hear Ron's question. He opened another package and watched the frog jump until it stopped moving. This time he made sure to keep it away from the window. He was biting into the now stationary frog when Ron got finally got his attention again to ask what cards he'd gotten.

Ron explained to Harry that the chocolate frogs each came with cards with famous witches and wizards on them. Ron collected them and had every one that was currently available except for Aggripa and Ptolemy, who Harry hadn't known was a wizard.

Harry looked into the empty boxes and had to pry the cards off the bottom with his fingernail. He had Morgan le Fay, who the card said was a bird animegus, whatever that was. The other was Albus Dumbledore. "So that's what he looks like," Harry showed the card to Ron.

"Yah, his is pretty common, I got about ten of him." Ron said distractedly. "Do you mind if I have one, I might get lucky and get Aggripa."

Harry just nodded as he read the back of Dumbledore's card:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

And he seemed to be very kind according to what Hagrid had said. Harry flipped the card back over to find that Dumbledore had disappeared out of the picture. Harry tried looking at it from different angles to see if it was one of those optical illusions or holograms or something. "He's gone," Harry said when he finally gave up.

"Well you can't expect him to hang around all day," Ron replied around a mouthful of chocolate.

Confused Harry looked down at the card just in time to see Dumbledore slide back into his picture. The cheeky old man winked at him. Harry decided that some things in the magical world would take some getting used to.

Ron helped Harry finish off the frogs with gusto, but Harry was more interested in the cards. He read each of them at least twice while he chewed. He was reading about Circe when he picked up a bag of colorful beans.

"You want to be careful with those! When they say every flavor, they mean every flavor," Ron warned. Harry looked at the bag he'd just opened. It was labeled: Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. "You know, you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate and peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach and liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger flavored one once."

The two of them spent the next several minutes carefully picking through the beans. Harry thought it was hilarious to watch the face Ron made when he got a sprout-flavored bean. Harry seemed to be a bit more tolerant than Ron. He even ate the strange gray bean that after an experimental nibble he found tasted like pepper.

But their fun was interrupted by a knock on the door. A moment later a round-faced boy stepped in asking if they'd seen a toad. He looked to be near tears. Harry and Ron both said they hadn't seen him. Harry tied to encourage him, telling the boy that the toad was sure to turn up. It didn't seem to help. Harry figured everyone else had probably said the same thing.

"Don't know why he's so bothered," Ron said as soon as the door closed. "If I'd brought a toad I'd lose it as quick as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk." Ron's very fat pet rat was lying inert on his lap. Ron poked it in the stomach gently, but Scabbers didn't move. "He could die and you couldn't tell the difference," Ron muttered. "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting, but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look..." Ron all but dove into his trunk, but somehow he didn't disturb Scabbers, who didn't even twitch while he was jostled on Ron's lap.

Ron's whole body stiffened for a moment when he found what he wanted. He straightened up holding a very beat-up looking wand. It was chipped and cracked and there was something white visible at the end. "Unicorn hair's nearly poking out," Ron said disgustedly. "Anyway…"

Ron lifted his wand into the air dramatically, but before he could wave it or say an incantation the compartment door slid open. "Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one." Hermione, already dressed in her school robes, stepped in. The boy from before, Neville followed her looking lost.

"We already told him that we haven't seen it." Ron sounded exasperated, but Hermione didn't seem to notice. She was staring transfixed at Ron's wand, almost as if she'd never seen one before. She'd told Harry that her parents weren't magical, so maybe she'd never seen one in use before.

"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then." Hermione sat right down as if there was nothing out of the ordinary with her request and after adjusting her robes looked at Ron expectantly.

Ron looked taken aback. "Oh, er…all right." Ron cleared his throat dramatically before he began his incantation waving his wand side to side over the sleeping rat. "Sun…"

"Ron!" Harry interrupted. "Are you sure you want to be trying that spell with Scabbers on your lap, you don't want it to turn more than just him yellow."

Ron looked shocked at the implications at first, but the embarrassment about talking about his lap in front of a girl seemed to overcome his fear of accidentally harming himself if the red color of his ears were anything to go by. "Uh, I don't think anything will happen, I told you it didn't work before, I think the spell is a dud."

"Then you really don't want something to go wrong do you?" Harry replied. He had to force himself not to laugh as Ron's face seemed to be trying to turn white and red at the same time. Hermione covered her mouth while Neville turned even more ashen in sympathy.

"Right then," Ron cleared his throat and gently sat the fat rat onto the seat beside him. His wand waving seemed to twitch as he moved it in a circle around the sleeping rat. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He ended the spell with a violent thrust toward the rat. Nothing happened.

"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked, but continued before anyone could answer. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard – I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough – How about you Harry?" Hermione turned away from Ron and looked at Harry expectantly.

Harry wasn't sure just what she was asking and the look Ron was giving him didn't help. "What?"

"Magic," Hermione seemed to think that was enough to go on. "Have you tried any yet?"

"Oh," Harry said. "My mom wouldn't let me. She took away my wand and didn't give it back to me until I left for the train. She didn't want me to accidentally blow up the house or something."

"Bummer, mate," Ron commiserated.

"You're mum?" Hermione seemed confused. "But everything I read said that your parents died on Halloween when…"

Harry was about to mention being adopted when Hermione trailed off, but changed his mind. "Everything you've read?" Harry asked hesitantly.

"Oh, well, when I found out that I was going to be going to Hogwarts I got a few extra books for background reading. And you're in _Modern Magical History_ and _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ and _Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century_."

"Oh," Harry replied hesitantly. "Did any of the others have anything more than _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ did?"

Hermione turned her head to one side and pouted for a moment. When she straightened up, she seemed to have come to a conclusion. "No, not really; _The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts _was the most comprehensive and had the most theories about…well…how you survived."

"But that's just it," Harry replied. "It only had a bunch of theories about what happened, it didn't really know much of anything about it."

"But no one really knows what really happened for sure. Except maybe Dumbledore, that's probably why he hid you away. He must have known something…"

"But Dumbledore didn't hide me," Harry interrupted. "I was adopted by a family in Asia. According to Mr. Piccolo, Dumbledore didn't know where I was."

"But I thought that was how you knew Marital Arts," Hermione was having trouble with the idea that a book could be wrong. "Dumbledore was training you to fight you-know-who."

"No I study my family's style of martial arts. My dad was once the world champion."

Ron and Neville weren't quite sure what Harry's dad was the champion of, but it sounded really cool. Hermione however wanted to move the conversation to more comfortable subject away from any possible failings books might conceivably have. "Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad for me. But I'm sure you'll be in Gryffindor Harry, what with how brave you are. You didn't even flinch when Smithy punched you in the face."

Harry smiled and winked at her. "I told you he was obviously a martial arts master. He wouldn't punch hard enough to hurt me. I had nothing to be afraid of." Harry smirked to himself. The last part was true even if the boy in question had obviously never had any training in the martial arts.

Hermione blushed. "Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know. I expect we'll be there soon." Hermione seemed to be trying to regain her composure as she exited the compartment.

"Do you know her?" Ron asked as soon as the door slid shut.

"I met her when I was out to get my school supplies," Harry responded. "I tried to ask her how to get onto the train platform, but she went through when I was talking to someone else."

"Can you believe her, acting like she knew you just because she read some books about you! And I told her that spell was a dud," Ron chose that moment to throw his wand back in his trunk. Harry suspected he knew which of the two complaints bothered his new friend more. "Stupid spell—George gave it to me, bet he just made it up. And whatever house I end up in, I hope SHE'S NOT IN IT!"

"What houses are your brothers in?" Harry asked, hoping to distract him.

"Gryffindor," Ron seemed to calm down, but instead of cheering up, he seemed gloomy. "Mom and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."

"What's wrong with Slytherin?"

"They're a bunch of dark wizards," Ron's voice was eerily quiet. "Every dark wizard you've ever heard of came from Slytherin."

"All of them?" Harry asked. He didn't like the idea of attending classes along side students that were studying black magic and some of his uncertainty must have shown on his face, because Ron's face lost a little of it's confidence as well.

"Well I'm sure some of them go on to be harmless book keepers or politicians," Ron didn't quite sound so sure of himself. "But most of the dark wizards this century were once in Slytherin." Ron sounded more confident. "And You-Know-Who was in Slytherin."

"Voldemort went to Hogwarts?" Harry asked.

"Well even _he_ had to learn the basics somewhere didn't he?" Ron sounded like it was obvious.

"You mean they teach dark magic at Hogwarts?" Harry asked

"No, Dumbledore would never allow it, but I hear they do at Drumstrang." Harry never got to ask about Drumstrang, because just as Ron finished the compartment door slid open again. This time by a pail faced boy with platinum blond hair slicked back over his head. Two boys followed him in. Their low hairline, thick brows and general size suggested there might have been some gorilla in their ancestry. They wore Hogwarts robes, but these two were obviously the first boy's thugs.

"Is it true?" the first boy asked, his voice had a lazy drawling sound. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"

"Yes," Harry's voice was frosty. He had never met anyone that kept toughs around that hadn't been up to no good.

The pail-faced boy must have noticed the way that Harry kept his eye on his two thugs, because he introduced them. "This is Crabbe and this is Goyle," he pointed at his two companions respectively. "And I'm Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."

Ron tried to hide his sniggering with a cough, but it didn't seem to work. "Think my name's funny, do you?" Draco rounded on Ron. "No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."

Ron looked cowed by Malfoy's comments about money. Harry wanted to wipe the smug grin off of Draco's face when the boy turned back toward him. "You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." Draco extended his pail hand out toward Harry.

Harry heard Ron gasp when he stood up and took the pale boy's hand. Harry just smirked when he gripped it far too tightly and pulled the boy forward so he could whisper in Draco's ear. "I've been hunting down the _wrong sort_ since I was six, Malfoy. I can tell who they are when I see them." Harry's voice was quiet but it carried over the deathly silent compartment.

Harry did his best impression of Mr. Piccolo's smirk for Crabbe and Goyle before sitting down as casually as possible. When he finally looked Draco in the face, it was as white as a sheet.

Draco was sure that he had just been insulted. Not only that, but he had been threatened. No one had ever dared to threaten the son of Lucious Malfoy. But Harry Potter had defeated the Dark Lord himself. Could he actually…?

No. Potter was only a baby then, he couldn't possibly have done anything. He'd show Potter that miracles don't happen twice. Whatever saved him from the Dark Lord won't help him now. No one crosses a Malfoy!

Harry watched as what little color he had returned to Draco's face. Then, the boy's mouth twisted into a grimace and his cheeks turned slightly pink. Rather than make him look intimidating it just made him look more effeminate. "I'd be careful if I were you, Potter. Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys, and it'll rub off on you."

Later Harry would wonder why he reacted the way he did. He should have known that Malfoy didn't know that he'd been adopted. But he still wasn't used to people talking about his birth parents. Maybe he was nervous about school and wasn't thinking clearly. Maybe it was because his dad had recently died. He didn't know, but somehow at that time what Malfoy said sounded like a threat to his mother.

Harry was so angry he didn't hear Ron stand up or tell Draco to get out. He lifted his head and stared at the blonde boy. Malfoy's snide comment about the staying to eat the food in the comment drowned out Harry's whispering voice.

"What's that Potter?" Malfoy said smugly. "Want to apologize? It might not be too late yet."

Harry stood up and stared Malfoy in the eyes. He moved so close that their noses nearly touched. "Did you just threaten my mum?" Harry's voice sounded like something sliding over gravel.

No one will ever know if Malfoy would have been cowed by Harry's show of anger or if he would have continued his taunting and got what was coming to him, because at the mention of food Crabbe and Goyle each reached for one of the piles of food in the compartment. Goyle had the misfortune to reach into the pile next to Scabbers, and before Draco could respond to Harry's question, Goyle let out a piercing wail as he lifted his hand out of the pile with Ron's pet rat hanging by one of the thug's knuckles.

Goyle only stopped wailing to catch his breath as he jerked his hand side to side, up and down and around in a circle hoping to dislodge the rat's teeth from his hand. Crabbe and Malfoy were forced back to avoid Goyle's frantic movements. And as soon as Goyle managed to fling the fat rat off of his hand the three intruders fled the compartment.

Ron was bending over to pick up Scabbers when the door slid open and Hermione stormed back in. "What has been going on here?"

Ron pointedly ignored her as he examined his rat. "I think he's been knocked out…no…he's gone back to sleep."

Harry couldn't help himself. That was funny.

"It's not funny," Ron groused to the now sitting and laughing Harry. "He could have been hurt being thrown around like that." It didn't stop Harry's laughing so Ron tried to change the subject. "So do you know Malfoy?"

Harry took a deep breath to stop laughing before he replied. "No."

Harry turned toward Hermione and was about to apologize for ignoring her but Ron had other ideas. "Yah, well he probably figures that since his daddy's rich he can just chum up to anybody famous like he knows them." Ron said darkly. "But I've heard of his family, they were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side." Having said his peace he finally turned to Hermione. "Can we help you with something?"

Hermione sighed, looking put out and Harry tried to appease her by looking apologetic. "You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"

"Scabbers was fighting, not us," Ron replied while Harry tried not to laugh.

"What's so funny about getting into trouble," Hermione asked Harry archly.

Harry had to suppress a new round of laughter and it showed. "I think I must be nervous or tiered or something, but the way you were standing and telling us not to fight and everything, for a minute there you reminded me of my mother."

Hermione didn't seem to take the comparison well. "I was just trying to help," Hermione yelled as she ran out of the compartment. Harry yelled for her to stop as he started to follow her out of the compartment, but she wouldn't stop.

When he pulled his head back into the compartment Ron was pulling his robe over his head. "That got rid of her; I wish I had thought of it."

"I didn't mean to hurt her feelings, for a moment there she really did remind me of my mother," Harry replied.

"That's kind of spooky you know," Ron said.

"I'll just have to apologize to her later." Harry pulled his trunk off the overhead compartment to get his robes. He took a moment to look outside at the inky darkness. He could see forest and make out the outline of Mountains in the background. And the train was definitely slowing down.

"We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train; it will be taken to the school separately." A voice boomed through out the train, but Harry couldn't see any speakers for a PA system. He quickly through his robes on and began to put the candy that remained into its pockets. Ron did the same.

Once his hands stopped moving and Harry sat down he felt more nervous than he'd felt since Hagrid had first arrived at his home. Ron didn't look too particularly confident either, so they sat in a tense silence until the train screeched to a stop.

Once there, they stepped out of their compartment and into the press of students trying to get off the train. Harry didn't know if the slow pace made his nerves better or worse. But when he got outside it was a relief to hear a familiar voice. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" Hagrid was easy to spot towering over the crowd. Harry smiled when he saw him and moved toward him. Hagrid smiled back. "All right there, Harry?"

Harry nodded, he was.

Hagrid called out a few more times before he was sure that he had all the first years with him then with a call to follow him he led them down a steep and narrow path. The trees made it so dark on either side that you could only see the path in front of you. No one said much as the walked.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

Everyone stopped and oohed and awed as they rounded the bend in the path. It slowed everyone down, but when Harry got to the corner he could understand. The path came up to a dark lake and the large castle sat atop a mountain on the far side. Its many turrets were bathed in starlight and lights flickered through its many windows. Magical was the only word he could use to describe the castle.

Harry was drawn out of his reverie by Hagrid's voice calling "No more'n four to a boat." Harry and Ron immediately climbed into one of the many miniature looking row boats in front of them. Hermione and Neville climbed in after them.

"All right then," Hagrid cleared his throat. He had an entire boat to himself. "Forward," he called and all of the boats started to move along the glass-like surface of the lake. Everyone was silent, captivated by the sight of the castle that was getting larger and larger as they approached. Harry was awed by its incredible size.

As they approached the cliff-face Hagrid called for everyone to duck their heads. They passed through a curtain of ivy that hid the entrance to a dark cave that the boats floated down until they came to a stop at a small gravelly harbor underneath the castle.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" Hagrid asked as he checked the boats after everyone had climbed out.

"Trevor!" Neville came running up to the friendly giant to reclaim his errant pet. Hagrid just smiled and led everyone up a long tunnel that finally took them up to the grassy top of the mountain right in front of the castle. He then led them up a flight of stairs right up to the huge front door to the castle. Once everyone stood crowded on the steps he raised his enormous hand and knocked on the large oak double doors three times.

The doors made a creaking sound as they opened revealing a stern looking witch with emerald green robes and jet black hair tied in a bun. Harry was reminded of his mother for the second time that evening.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid did his best at a formal introduction.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here." Professor McGonagall pushed one of the doors wide open. The entrance hall was so large that Harry's entire home could fit inside it. The stone walls had torches just like Gringots had. There was a large staircase that led to the upper floors. But what Harry noticed most of all could not be seen. The castle itself seemed to hum with the strange energy he'd been sensing since he had entered the magical world. He could sense that most of the school was behind a set of double doors right, but Professor McGonagall led them to a small empty chamber just off the hall that they had to stand a little more closely to each other than most would have liked.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," Professor McGonagall turned to face everyone. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room. "The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

She looked over the entire group of students, though she seemed to be trying to send Neville and Ron a message with her eyes. Harry nervously ran his fingers through his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait quietly."

"How do they sort us into houses?" Harry whispered to Ron.

"Some sort of test," Ron whispered back. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I'm pretty sure he was only joking."

Ron didn't sound that sure. In fact he sounded terrified, but a little bit of pain didn't scare Harry Potter. Quite frankly a lot of pain didn't scare Harry Potter. But Pretests, those scared Harry Potter. No one seemed to be talking, except Hermione who was quietly going over the list of spells she knew and trying to figure out which ones she'd need. Harry wished that his mother had let him practice magic before he got here. He'd never done magic with a wand before. He knew that in addition to his martial art's powers he could teleport, become invisible, move things around, and call a sword out of thin air, but he wasn't even really sure that those things were magic. Well he was pretty sure the sword thing had to be, but still as far as magic went it didn't seem like a very impressive list compared to Hermione's.

He was contemplating which of his inhuman looking martial arts skills might help him when someone screamed. Everyone seemed to be looking over behind them where no less than twenty ghosts had passed through the back wall. They were pail white and slightly transparent, just like Harry remembered the spirits in other-world. But what were they doing in the living world? He'd never seen a ghost in this world. He wanted to ask, but he was sure it wouldn't be a good idea to talk about having been dead and being allowed to keep his body and travel down the great snake way to be trained by King Kai, because his friends and family were planning on wishing him back with the dragon balls.

The ghosts didn't seem to pay any attention to the first years and they appeared to be arguing about something until a ghost in tights with a ruffled neck seemed to notice them. "I say what are you all doing here?"

No one answered.

"New students!" a fat monk said excitedly. "About to be Sorted, I suppose?"

A few of the students nodded mutely.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" the bubbly monk said. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now, the sorting ceremony is about to start." McGonagall had returned and at her instruction the ghosts passed through the wall in front of them. "Form a line and follow me."

Remembering his nervousness Harry got in line with Ron right behind him as they left the chamber and this time entered the great hall and walked them up to the stand where the teachers sat facing the rest of the school. There were four tables each ran the length of the hall toward the stand and the rest of the school seemed to be sitting at them eyeing the newcomers. Above their heads the room was illuminated by hundreds of floating candles and above that he could see the night sky. He'd read in Hogwarts a History, one of the books he'd gotten when his mother had told him to find out more about the magical world, that the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky outside. Hermione had apparently read this too, because she was telling someone next to her. It was so well done, that Harry couldn't tell that there was a ceiling at all.

Harry turned to look at professor McGonagall as she set a stool down in front of the line of first years and then sat an old, patched up, ragged, pointed hat on top of it. Harry wasn't sure what was going on, but hopefully whatever they were supposed to do would be as easy, like calling the hat to them.

Harry looked at McGonagall, who was looking intently at the hat. She didn't seem to have any intention of giving them any instructions. Harry looked down at the hat and saw it come to life. A rip in the brim opened up and it began to sing.

"Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true and unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folk use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!"

A wave of relief swept through the line of new students. "I'm gonna kill Fred," Ron whispered in Harry's ear. "He was going on about wrestling a troll." Harry didn't say anything, but he thought he'd rather wrestle a troll than have some strange hat try to read his mind and then tell the entire school about it.

"When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," Professor McGonagall had pulled out a roll of parchment from which she began to call out names. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A blond, rosy faced girl ambled up to the stool and placed the hat on her head. It fell over her eyes. After a moment she was the first to be sorted into Hufflepuff. The table on the middle-right cheered and Hannah went to sit with them. Bones, Susan was next and after being sorted into Hufflepuff went to sit next to Hannah.

After watching a few people get sorted Harry saw that the table on the far left was for Gryffindor, then Ravenclaw in the middle-left then Hufflepuff and Slytherin was on the far right. Lavender Brown had been the first to be sorted into Gryffindor. She was pretty, but Harry was sure Ron's twin brother's cat-calls and wolf-whistles were more in jest then real appreciation of her good looks. Terry Boot and Mandy Brocklehurst were the first to be sorted into Ravenclaw. And Bulstrode, Millicent, a thickset and thoroughly unpleasant looking girl was the first to be sorted into Slytherin. She seemed to fit right in with the rough looking bunch at that table. Harry had hoped that Ron's opinion of Slytherin was just bias on his part, but looking over at that table Harry wondered if it didn't at least have a strong basis in fact.

As the sorting went on Harry noticed that some people took longer than others to be sorted. That Hat took a couple of minutes to sort Neville Longbottom, the boy who kept loosing his toad, into Gryffindor; though it didn't take quite so long to place Hermione in Gryffindor as well. The latter earned a groan out of Ron. The hat hadn't finished being placed on Malfoy's head before it called out Slytherin. Malfoy seemed to be very pleased with himself as he walked over to the Slytherin table to sit next to his stooges Crabbe and Goyle.

Harry could tell his turn was getting close when two exotic looking, identical twin sisters by the name of Patil were called. One sister went to Ravenclaw and the other to Gryffindor, proving that not all families were sorted together. Perks, Sally-Anne was next. Then Potter, Harry was called.

The entire Great Hall seemed to erupt into whispering at the sound of his name.

"The Harry Potter?"

"Is that really him?"

"He's cute."

"Hair's a mess"

"Doesn't look like much of a hero to me."

Harry walked rigidly up to the hat. He was so busy trying to ignore the crowd's whisperings and quell the nervous fluttering in his stomach that he didn't even notice when he made the sorting hat jump six inches into his outstretched hand or the gasps from the people who saw it.

Harry was glad when the hat finally fell over his eyes so he couldn't see all the people stretching their necks and twisting around in their seats to try and get a better look at him.

Harry felt the familiar sensation of someone speaking to his mind just before he heard the hat's quiet voice in his head. "Difficult. Very difficult. Plenty of courage, I see, nearly fearless. Loyalty proven by the ultimate sacrifice, I dare say you're the first to have taken that opportunity and ended up here afterward." Harry couldn't help but chuckle at that. He heard the hat chuckle too, this time with his ears. "You have good friends Mr. Potter, one of the better measures of a man," the hat continued in his head. "Not a bad mind. There's talent, oh my goodness, and cunning, yes—and a nice thirst to prove yourself, with a great deal of determination and discipline to go with it. Sadly I don't get to see that combination very often. So where shall I put you?"

Harry focused his mind so he could send a message back just the way Mr. Piccolo had taught him. "Please, anything but Slytherin."

"Not Slytherin, eh?" the hat asked. "Are you sure? You could be great, you know, it's all here in your head, and Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that."

"But from the looks of it I'll end up beating up every one in Slytherin by the end of the year," Harry replied. Harry didn't realize that he was fast approaching the longest time under the hat yet. Nor did he realize that he was the only one to have made the hat chuckle. And he definitely didn't notice how deathly quiet the hall had become when that happened.

The hat chuckled again at Harry's response. "I dare say that might do some of them some good, convince them of the error of their ways."

"But I really would rather not have to spend all my time with people that are preparing to become dark wizards."

The hat didn't disagree with Harry, which scared him. "Ah, but it would be the best place to be to protect everyone else from them. Give them someone in their house to focus their animosity on instead of the others; a brilliant tactical maneuver!"

"I can't disagree with you there," Harry began hesitantly. "But I'd really rather not spend all my time surrounded by people I've made enemies of instead of friends."

"Ah, but your friend Piccolo was a very evil man when you and your brother first encountered him was he not? And some of them would certainly stand up for the side of good if they had a peer in their own house that they knew would do so no matter what. Perhaps some of the nobility of the Knights of Slytherin could be restored to Slytherin House!" The hat seemed to be excited. And if it was the right thing to do how could Harry say no, but still he wavered. "Think of the people you could save," the hat whispered into Harry's mind. "Both in Slytherin and without."

"If that's what you think is best, I'll do it." Harry had a heavy heart, but he was willing to take on the burden if it was the right thing to do.

"Gryffindor!" the hat Shouted. And The Gryffindor table did too, doing their best to deafen everyone in the room

Harry wanted to shout. He felt betrayed. He'd just gone through all that mental anguish to work up the courage to be sorted into Slytherin and he was placed into Gryffindor instead. That seemed to have been the point of the test, Harry figured, but it still felt like a let down.

Harry had been slow to take the sorting hat off and place it on the stool due to his musings. When he finally came back to himself he was nearly to the cheering Gryffindor table. The Weasley twins had their arms interlinked and were dancing around yelling "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Ron's last brother Percy shook his hand vigorously, Harry recognized him from the train station.

When Harry sat down he finally got a good look at the staff table in the front. Hagrid was sitting there and when he caught his eye he smiled and gave him the thumbs up. Harry recognized Albus Dumbledore sitting in a golden high-backed chair in the center of the table. He even saw the turban clad Professor Quirrell.

The Gryffindor table erupted in cheers while Harry wasn't paying attention. Dean Thomas, a black skinned boy that was even taller than Ron got sorted into Gryffindor as well. Turpin, Lisa was sorted into Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He looked terrified, but after just a second on his head the hat yelled "Gryffindor!" and Ron quickly took his place by Harry. Percy reached across Harry to shake his brother's hand and congratulate him for making it into Gryffindor when the last first year, Zabini Blaise was sorted into Slytherin.

Harry looked at the shining gold plate in front of him while Professor McGonagall took the Sorting Hat and it's stool out of the great hall. Now that Harry was no longer nervous, he was hungry. The sweets he and Ron had shared weren't very substantial. Harry realized that it had been nearly been an entire day since his last good meal. That was when he felt his stomach twist on itself and embarrass him with an audible growl.

"Ronald," Percy sounded scandalized as he began to scold his brother for Harry's crime.

But before Percy could continue the lecture he seemed poised to give and before Ron could profess his innocence, Dumbledore stood up and began to address the students. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!" With that he sat down.

Harry just stared at the old headmaster. The only person that Harry knew that was near Dumbledore's age was Master Roshi. And saying that he had his own eccentricities was putting it nicely. But Professor Dumbledore, who having noticed his stare had just winked at him, must be insane.

"He's mad," Harry muttered.

"Dumbledore?" Percy asked. "He's a genius!" Percy answered without waiting for a reply. His words sounded almost worshiping. "Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry looked over at Percy to see him holding a bowl of mashed potatoes. Now seeing the table again for the first time since the headmaster's 'speech' he saw that it was covered in platters of various types of meat and poultry and bowls of several different types of potatoes and other vegetables. "Sure," Harry replied dumbly as he set about filling his plate with some of everything.

Now Harry couldn't eat as much his dad and brother could. They were Saiyans and could easily put away enough food for a dozen normal humans each and plenty more if they were really hungry. But due to his training he ate a good deal more than most normal people. His body required it to maintain his muscle mass and keep producing the amount of ki it did. And after a day full of worrying and only a few sandwiches and some sweets, he was ravenous.

Harry was using his best table manners. He didn't want to make a scene, but the impressive amount of food he was putting away it seemed a scene was inevitable. He looked up to see several people looking at him in awe, including the ghost with the ruffle around his neck, who was sitting in front of him. Harry noticed that the plate in front of it was clean. "Don't you…"

"No," the ghost cut him off. "I don't need to of course, but one does miss it."

It was strange to Harry. He had been dead once, but he'd been allowed to keep his body to train with King Kai. He'd eaten while he was there and King Kai kept complaining about how Harry's dad had nearly eaten him out of house and home while he had been there the year before.

The ghost continued on cutting Harry's musings short. "I don't think I've introduced myself. Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor Tower."

"I know who you are!" Ron interrupted excitedly. "My brothers told me about you—you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would prefer you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy…" the ghost began stiffly, only to be interrupted by a sandy-haired boy, Seamus Finnigan.

"Nearly Headless? How can you be nearly headless?"

Sir Nicholas didn't look like he appreciated the interruption. "Like this." The ghost grabbed his own left ear and pulled. His head fell onto his chest, hanging from his neck by a small bit of skin. It looked like someone had started to behead him, but didn't finish. After waiting a second or two the ghost carefully lifted his head back on his shoulders.

The ghost grinned at the shocked and slightly nauseous looking faces around him. Harry almost laughed. He stuffed some food in his mouth instead. A less skilled person might have choked, but it wasn't a problem for Harry.

"Well now, new Gryffindor's," Sir Nicholas started to speak excitedly. "I hope you'll help us win the house cup this year. Slytherin has won it for the last six years in a row. It's the longest Gryffindor has ever gone without a win and the Bloody Barron has been insufferable about it."

"The Bloody Barron?" Harry asked.

"He's the Slytherin ghost," Sir Nicholas nodded very slightly toward the Slytherin table. Harry twisted around to look. At first he thought that the nearly headless ghost had been careful about where he nodded his head to be sure he kept it on his shoulders, but after looking at the Slytherin ghost he wondered if Sir Nicholas didn't want to keep from drawing it's attention. The Bloody Barron was the most surly and foul looking ghost he'd ever seen. His robes were covered in a glistening silver substance that looked like blood. Harry noticed that he was sitting next to Malfoy, who was having trouble eating his dinner. Harry laughed and returned to his dinner.

Harry heard Seamus ask, "How did he get covered in blood?"

"I never asked?" Sir Nicholas answered weakly.

When everyone had finished eating, except perhaps Harry, he'd been trying to decide between another stake or a couple of drumsticks, the food vanished off of the dishes leaving them as spotless as they were before the feast began. A moment later the tables were covered with all sorts of deserts. Harry ate at a much more sedate pace and the conversations turned to family.

Listening Harry learned that Seamus was what he called half and half. Apparently his mother was a witch and didn't tell her husband until after they were married. Neville was raised by his Grandmother, who he simply called Gran. He didn't mention what happened to his parents, but it was pretty funny to hear about all of the things that his relatives had done to try to scare him into using some magic. Thinking back Harry realized that he had been deathly scared most of the first times he'd ever used most of his magical powers. He'd lost the sword that Mr. Piccolo had given him in a fight with one of the monsters in Yonsabit Heights and it was charging at his brother Gohan's unconscious body. That had been the first time he'd teleported himself and when he'd gotten in front of his brother he'd had a sword in his hand. He stabbed the sword into the dinosaur like monster's mouth.

Harry hadn't heard the whole question that drew him out of his reverie, but it had made the whole table go quiet. "I'm sorry, what?" he asked.

"Never mind," Lavender Brown looked down embarrassed by the shaking heads of several people at the table including Percy and Sir Nicholas.

Harry felt bad for the girl who was surrounded by new people, who all seemed to know something she didn't. And he was also curious about what she could have asked that got this response. "That's ok, what did you want to know?"

She was blushing when she looked up. She looked nervous. "I was just wondering about your family." Lavender said very quietly.

She looked back at her half full plate rather then meet the withering stares of the people around her. Harry smiled and did his best to look kind. "Thank you for asking Lavender, I live with my mum and brother." Harry smirked at the gobbsmaked looks around the table. One of Ron's twin brothers had dropped their goblet. When he looked back however they were hamming it up, each trying to look more surprised. One had his eyes open as wide as he could. The other had leaned forward as far as he could and had his tongue sticking out of his mouth.

For the benefit of the gob smacked people all around him as well as the girl that had originally asked the question Harry went on to explain that he had been adopted after his birth parents had been killed by a powerful dark wizard. The entire Gryffindor table erupted in whispers after his explanation. Harry leaned back while everyone began to discuss the matter like he wasn't there. It was a part of being a celebrity that Harry thought he wasn't going to like very much. But Harry figured at least this time after the scene most of the people at the table made they were probably too embarrassed to talk to him about it.

Harry looked back up toward the staff table. Hagrid was wiping his beard with his hand. Professor Dumbledore was talking to Professor McGonagall. And looking farther down the table he saw Professor Querrell's turban turn toward him as he spoke to another professor with a hooked nose and greasy black hair. The other professor glared at Harry and he felt a piercing pain in his forehead just where his scar was.

The pain caught him off guard and Harry gasped. Beside him Percy was explaining to Hermione how classes would start with small things like changing matchsticks into needles when Hermione interrupted him. "Harry, are you all right?"

The pain had gone away immediately. "Just a headache, Hermione," Harry tried to explain his outburst away as he turned toward Percy. The boy looked miffed at having his explanation interrupted. "Percy, who's that talking to Professor Querrell?" Harry asked.

Percy suddenly seemed pleased at the opportunity to explain something else. "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape. He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to. Everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Harry didn't like the sound of that, especially if he knew how to cause pain just by looking at someone. Harry might have to avoid his eyes during class. "Does he usually glare at his students like that?" Harry asked.

Percy looked at the head table before answering. "Like I said, he wants Quirrell's job. Now he's a stern teacher, and some people say he's mean, but potions can be a very dangerous subject. We had a neighbor that died in a potions accident."

"So he probably takes a lot of extra time explaining things and pointing out what not to do?" Harry asked.

"No, he usually just writes the instructions on the board and expects everyone to have read the book before class." Percy explained. "When someone makes a mistake he can tell exactly what they did and warns the whole class not to do the same thing."

Harry decided he'd have to reserve judgment until he had attended the man's class. The chemistry tutor his mother had gotten for Harry and Gohan had always explained exactly what they would be doing with dangerous chemicals before they did it and made sure to tell them exactly what not to do and what the consequences of doing so would be. But then again nothing that Piccolo had ever taught him could be classified as safe and he'd almost never gave them any warnings.

Harry watched the potions teacher as well as he could without being obvious the rest of the night, but the greasy haired man never looked back, until finally the head master stood up and addressed the hall. "Ahem—just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well." The head master seemed to be looking over the Weasley twins. It seemed their mother may not have been exaggerating the amount of trouble they got in at all.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed at the headmaster's last comment, but he quickly stopped as he was one of only a select few who seemed to think it was a joke. "He can't be serious," Harry whispered to Percy.

"Must be," Percy said, looking thoroughly disgruntled. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects, at least."

"Before we go to bed lets sing the school song." Dumbledore called out and drew his wand. He pointed it straight in front of him he began waving it as if to fling something off the end of it. After a few moments a streamer exploded out of the tip and began to form the words to the song. Harry noticed that while Dumbledore was smiling gleefully the other staff member's smiles looked very forced. Except for Professor Snape, who wasn't smiling at all.

"Everyone pick your favorite tune and off we go!"

"Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,

Teach us something please,

Whether we be old and bald

Or young with scabby knees,

Our heads could do with filling

With some interesting stuff,

For now they're bare and full of air,

Dead flies and bits of fluff,

So teach us things worth knowing,

Bring back what we've forgot,

just do your best, we'll do the rest,

And learn until our brains all rot.

The hall was filled with a cacaffony of overlapping voices. Due to the different tempos they weren't even all on the same words, some finishing well before the others. Fred and George were the last ones singing, something that sounded like a funeral dirge. Dumbledore waved his wand like a conductor's baton as they finished. "Music magic beyond all we do here," the head master looked misty eyed as he spoke. "And now bed time, off you trot."

Percy called for all of the Gryffindor first years to follow him. Harry along with the rest of the first years got up and followed him as if on autopilot. After a long stressful day and now being stuffed to the gills with food he was so sleepy that he didn't pay much attention to where he was going. (Something that he'd later berate himself for when he had to make his way back down for breakfast the next day.) Harry was so tiered that he didn't notice the portraits talking in their frames as he passed them. He didn't realize that the stairs that they were climbing moved until Percy warned them that to pay attention to them.

They traveled through several hidden panels and doors hidden behind tapestries and up a couple extra flights of stairs before they stopped in front of a bundle of walking sticks that were floating in the air. They started throwing themselves at Percy when he took a step toward them. "Peeves, he's a poltergeist." Percy whispered to the first years. "Show yourself Peeves!"

The only response Percy got was a loud noise that sounded something like the air being let out of a balloon.

"Do you want me to go get the Baron?"

This threat seemed to hold more weight with the poltergeist, because he immediately appeared with a loud pop.

"Oooooooh!" the silvery old man cackled from where he floated in the air. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!" He dove toward the new students causing the students to duck. Harry just stood there.

"Go away Peeves," Percy shouted, "or I'll go get the Baron; I mean it!"

Looking disappointed the poltergeist dropped the walking sticks on Neville's head and flew off down the corridor causing the suits of armor to rattle as he past them.

"Only baron can control him, won't even listen to prefects," Percy sounded exhasperated. It seemed to Harry that Percy expected the position of prefect to be considerably more than it was turning out to be.

"Here we are," Percy announced as they walked down a corridor that had a large portrait at the end. "This is the fat lady, the guardian of Gryffindor tower."

"Password," The large woman in the portrait said tonelessly. "Caput Draconis," Percy supplied and the portrait swung open to reveal a circular hole in the wall. Everyone scrambled through till they came to a large cozy room decorated in red and gold with a large fireplace and filled with large squish chairs and couches and several wooden tables. Percy directed the girls through one door and the boys through another. The door led to a twisting staircase.

Once at the top of the stairs they came to a door leading to a circular room filled with five four-poster beds with red silk hangings. Each of their trunks were at the foot of one of the beds. Recognizing his trunk Harry removed his shoes and threw himself into the bed. Ron said something about the food, but Harry was already falling asleep.

Harry didn't know if it was because of all the strange food he'd eaten or just because he'd spent nearly the whole day worrying, but he had a very strange nightmare that night. He was wearing Professor Querell's turban and it kept telling him that he had to transfer to Slytherin, because it was his duty. The strange hat kept getting heavier and heavier and started to wrap itself around his throat and arms. He saw the hook-nosed potions teacher who glared at him. Harry shut his eyes when he felt the pain in his scar and when he opened them again he could see only darkness. "Why do I have to go to Slytherin?" He yelled, but his voice was muffled by the tight wrappings that now covered most of his body. "That's were they put cowards like you," Harry heard the resonating voice of Cell, the insect-like humanoid monster that had killed his father. "You know what you did," the voice accused and started laughing. The laughter started out deep and rich like Cell's laughter had been, but it quickly turned high and if possible even colder, before there was a flash of green light and Harry woke up.

* * *

Omake: 

The ghosts didn't seem to pay any attention to the first years and they appeared to be arguing about something until a ghost in tights with a ruffled neck seemed to notice them. "I say what are you all doing here?"

Harry looked around and noticing that every one else was too stunned to speak. "What are we doing here?" Harry asked incredulously. "What are _you_ doing here?"

"My dear boy," the ghost with the ruffle around his neck began. "We are the Hogwarts ghosts.

"But what are you doing _here_?" Harry asked again.

"Well, we wouldn't be the Hogwarts ghosts, if we didn't haunt Hogwarts castle now would we?" All the ghosts nodded at that.

Harry just sighed exasperatedly. "But isn't King Yamma looking for you? Don't you need special permission to be here or something?"

"King who my boy?" ghost in tights asked.

"You know, King Yamma," Harry looked at the ghosts incredibly. "You know big guy, horns, red skin, business suit, judges people's souls when they die."

The ghosts all started laughing at this. "And I suppose you've met him then?" one of the ghosts asked.

"Yeah," Harry replied.

One of the Ghosts floated up right next to Harry and glared into his eyes. The ghost looked extremely unfriendly and the front of his robes was covered in a silver substance that looked a lot like blood. "And how did you do that boy?"

"Well I was dead at the time," Harry replied back.

There was a loud thumping sound as the new students hit the floor. The ghosts however didn't stop at the floor and fell all the way through. Harry was the only one standing in the room when Professor McGonagall opened the door.


	4. Remedial Flying Lessons

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1 and if anyone charges you to read this you have my permission to feed them to Fluffy!

* * *

Chapter 4: Remedial Flying Lessons

* * *

_Dear Gohan,_

_Please make sure mum let's Hedwig rest before sending her back, especially if she's going to send more homework. Everyone tells me that the owls can handle it, but the packet I'm sending back is pretty big and it is an awful long trip. I'm not sure I can finish all the work mum's sent with me by Christmas break even if she doesn't send more. But you know mom, she probably won't be able to resist. We haven't gotten too much homework yet, but I'm told that we'll be getting a lot more soon._

_We started classes the day after we got here. A couple of them are pretty normal. Astronomy is pretty much what you'd expect, but we only have it once a week at midnight so we can see the stars and planets. We have to memorize their names and cart their positions. I'm going to have to look some of them up though, because I think wizards might have their own names for some of the stars._

_History is pretty normal too, but it's taught by a ghost. The castle is haunted by dozens of ghosts. I still can't figure out how that can happen. I know when I died I was taken straight to King Yamma there didn't seem like there was a way to get back. My friend Ron says that only wizards can become ghosts, but most don't. I think they might be more like a magical echo or shadow that a wizard can leave behind when they die instead of being their real spirit. I think I'll have to ask Piccolo when we have a break; I'll bet he knows. I bet the headmaster Dumbledore knows too, but I don't think I want to tell him about being dead before._

_Unfortunately history is taught by the most boring ghost in the castle. He was a teacher here when he was alive, but I think he might have bored himself to death. We have his class two times a week after lunch. Don't tell mum, but he makes history so boring that I fell asleep the first day of his class._

_The first class we had was transfiguration. The woman who teaches it, Professor McGonagall reminds me of mum. She's very strict and teaches a lot like mum does. She even wears her hair the same way mum does. But mum can't turn you into a toad if you don't pay attention. She hasn't done that, but she turned a desk into a pig the first day we were here. It doesn't look like we'll be turning things into animals for a while though. We started off trying to turn a match into a needle. None of us could do it. I turned my second match into metal. I accidentally lit the first one with my ki while I was trying to transfigure it. A girl named Hermione Granger was the only other person who could get their match to change. Hers changed to the right shape, but was still wood._

_Hermione is probably the best student in our year. She says she's memorized all the textbooks before she came. She's the first person in her family to be magical too, so she was worried that she'd be behind everyone else. It doesn't look like she needed to worry. Apparently even the kids that grew up with magical parents don't learn much magic before school. Ron says that it's against the law to use magic on your own until you turn seventeen, and even then you have to be sure that people that don't know about magic don't catch you. So, most parents don't teach their kids much magic until they're in school. Ron says his parents never taught him or his brothers anything. Only his mum taught his sister a few cleaning charms._

_I'm glad I'm not behind everyone else, but I don't think that Hermione is going to change. She seems determined to be the best in the class and she's really competitive. When she saw me doing the science homework mom sent with me she seemed to take it personally. When she asked me why I was doing it I told her that mum wasn't really sure about being able to make a living with magic and wanted to make sure I wasn't too far behind if I wanted to go to a University and I figured that knowing about science might help us understand advanced magical theory. We had a long discussion on that and eventually she decided that she wanted to study science too. She got really upset though, when she found out I knew more math than she did. She is going to try to get her parents to get her some books to help her catch up. I promised to help her with math if she'd practice magic with me. That seemed to satisfy her, but I hope I don't end up getting more than I bargained for._

_I never realized how annoying it was to be famous. Not even the teachers are completely unaffected. The charms professor, Professor Flitwick fell off the stack of books he standing on when he called out my name. He's so short that he has to stand on a stack of books to see over his desk. But some of the students are driving me crazy. Everywhere I've gone this week I hear people whispering about me and see them climbing over each other to stare at me. I tried to avoid some of them once by taking a side hallway. That was a mistake! This place is like a moving maze._

_The stairways move. Some of them go different places on different days. And some of them have trick steps that disappear if you step on them. There are all sorts of hidden doors. Then there are doors that won't open unless you ask them nicely or tickle them. There are even parts of the wall that look like doors, but aren't! I'm still having trouble getting around. I tried to use the teleportation technique I learned while we were training with Piccolo, but it doesn't work in the castle. I think that means that I was doing is what wizards call apparating, because the book I read about the school says that it's got protections that keep people from apparating in the school._

_So, I'm still having trouble finding my way to classes on time. The other day Ron and I were lost and Mr. Filch, he's the grounds keeper, found us while we were trying to open a locked door. Apparently it was the door to the off limits portion of the castle and he threatened to lock us in the dungeons. He wouldn't believe that we were lost despite the fact that it was only our second day at school._

_I don't know why they keep him at the school. He seems to hate the students. He and his cat, Mrs. Norris, seem to spend all their time trying to get the students in trouble. I'm not kidding about his cat either. I don't know if he used some magic on her or just trained her, but she's constantly prowling the school and as soon as she sees a student she runs back to get Mr. Filch. And Filch seems to know all sorts of secret passages, because he can suddenly come out of nowhere to try and catch you. Ron wants to give the cat a good kick._

_Anyway, we were saved from going to the dungeons by Professor Quirrell, he's the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher. I was really looking forward to his class, but it's been pretty pitiful. Professor Quirrell seems to be afraid of everything he's trying to teach about. His classroom was filled with garlic supposedly to keep vampires away. Apparently he ran into some over the summer and he's scared that they're after him. He's always wearing a turban that he claims was a gift from an African prince for dealing with some zombies, but when someone asked him what he'd done he wouldn't say. Ron's brothers Fred and George said that he keeps garlic in it. Professor Quirrell does always smell of garlic, but I can't tell if it's because he keeps some with him, or because of all the time he spends in his classroom._

_I haven't found a place where I can train yet, but I'm hoping to be able to find somewhere this weekend. I'm going to go exploring. You better keep training too. Don't let mum keep you studying all day. If I come back and find that you've lost your fighting edge, I'm going to pound it back into you._

_Your Brother,_

_Harry_

Harry signed his letter with a flourish and then began to gently blow on the page waiting for the ink to dry. It was kind of cool to use quills, but now he realized why the rest of the world switched to pens and pencils. He'd written a similar letter to his mum, though it definitely didn't mention anything bad about his professors or anything suggesting he might have gotten in trouble. He made sure to assure her that he wasn't having any trouble understanding the classes. Professor McGonagall had offered to teach him a charm that would translate English for him, but he didn't need it.

Harry slipped the letters in the large envelope that had his first week of homework in it and took it with him as he and Ron went down to breakfast. Ron didn't get up very early, so the great hall was mostly full by the time they got there. Since Harry could sense the large group of people every time they went there, so they never got lost going to meals. Though after watching the two of them eat a couple of their roommates suggested that they had a sixth sense that led them to wherever there was food. That hadn't stopped them from following Ron and Harry at meal times.

Once they arrived in the great hall, Harry and Ron quickly took seats and began to fill their plates. Most of the table was quick to ignore the human vacuums as they ate. After several days the novelty of how much food they could consume had worn off and while no one could complain about Harry's table manners, the same could not be said for Ron.

Harry was in the middle of his second plate of food when the great hall filled with the sound of flapping wings as owls bearing mail filled the hall. The same thing had happened every morning, so Harry didn't even look up. His owl Hedwig had visited a couple of mornings, but he'd never gotten any mail. The only people he knew of that might write to him were his family, and since he had the only owl, they wouldn't be able to until he got to the owlery today and sent her back with his homework.

So Harry was a little surprised when he nearly speared an unfolded note that had ended up on his plate. Looking up he saw Hedwig standing regally between the marmalade and sugar bowls.

"Who's it from?" Ron asked around a mouthful of food.

"Hagrid," Harry replied as he began to read the missive. "He knows we don't have classes this afternoon, and he's inviting me over to have a cup of tea with him."

Ron grunted and turned back to his food while Harry quickly began to take out his writing supplies from his bag. Once again he found himself missing modern writing implements. After writing a formal sounding acceptance letter he folded it and handed it to Hedwig, who had been helping herself to the food on his plate.

"Take this to Hagrid," Harry instructed. "Then take this packet to mum." Harry tied a large envelope filled thick with papers to Hedwig's leg. "And make sure to rest before you come back," Harry rubbed the owls head affectionately before letting her take off.

It was Friday, the last day of classes and their first potions class and their first and only class with Slytherin. According to Ron his brothers had told him that the potions teacher, Professor Snape was the head of Slytherin house and strongly favored them. Harry also remembered his first night and the fact that Professor Snape had not made any attempt to hide his dislike for him. If the potions professor was already partial, things didn't bode well for Harry.

Ron seemed to pick up on his mood and kept quiet as they descended into the castle's dungeons. Once underground the castle was darker, colder and slightly damp. The foreboding atmosphere didn't help sooth Harry's nerves. And the potions classroom with its jars full of strange creatures floating inside them only made it worse. Then as the students arrived the class seemed to naturally divide itself, with Slytherins on one side of the room and the Gryffindors on the other. It felt like a bad omen to Harry.

It was worse than Harry feared. Professor Snape burst through the door without warning and without a word stalked up to his desk, his robe billowing out behind him like a cape. His black, greasy hair was combed back against his head and underneath it his face was twisted in a sneer. His robes twisted and flared around him as he stepped behind his desk, and the sneer never left his face when without preamble he began to call roll.

Snape's voice was terse as he called out name after name without comment until he came to _Potter, Harry_. Snape's sneer twisted even tighter on his face and his voice became quieter.

"Ah, Yes Harry Potter, our new…celebrity."

Snape continued with roll call ignoring Malfoy and his toughs' snickering. Harry tried to do the same. When the roll was done, Professor Snape looked up at the class and for the first time Harry got a good look into his eyes. They seemed to burn cold with anger.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," Professor Snape spoke in barely more than a whisper. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses... I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death—if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach." Professor Snape's face turned wistful for a moment as he discussed his art, but his scowl returned immediately.

Professor Snape's speech seemed to do its job. The class was on the edge of their seats. Hermione seemed especially determined.

"Potter!" Professor Snape growled out without warning. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Harry saw Hermione's hand fly up as he searched his memory. "I don't know sir." Harry replied.

"Tut, tut—fame clearly isn't everything." Snape leered. "Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione raised her hand even higher, looking as if she was about to be lifted out of her seat by it.

Harry only needed a moment to think about this one. He'd been especially interested in potions that healed serious injuries or in this case cured poisons. "The stomach of a goat sir," Harry replied confidently.

Hermione sagged back into her seat and looked disappointed.

Professor Snape also looked disappointed for a brief moment. "All right then Potter, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

"Nothing sir," Harry replied immediately. "They're both aconite."

Snape looked even more incensed at this answer. He stared at Harry as if he were trying to use to bore a hole into Harry's eyes. That was when Harry noticed the strange presence in his mind. He tried to push it out, but seemed to ignore him and began to sift through his memories.

Harry had never encountered anyone that could read minds without touching someone. But no one was touching him now, so he couldn't move to stop the attack and he didn't seem to be able to push the presence out of his mind, so he decided to try something different.

Pain, Harry remembered pain. Harry remembered how badly he hurt after he'd been fighting with Nappa. His right shoulder and his stomach had throbbed and the sharp pains he had in his leg when he moved. The bald saiyan had withstood most of the Z Sentai's attacks with impunity. He'd already killed most of them and had just killed Mr. Piccolo. Harry didn't remember what happened next very well. He felt strange sensation of the power that flowed through him forming an attack that had burned his hands and made the scratches on his arms sting before he'd thrown it. The next thing he remembered was seeing the flash of light from Napa's counter attack, then the incredible burning that had consumed his body with unimaginable pain. He focused on that pain he'd experienced as his body was vaporized, reliving the pain in excruciating detail for as long as he could. The intruder couldn't take it and left his mind.

Harry had to shake his head to clear the remembered pain. When he looked up he was just able to see Snape pushing himself up off of his desk, looking like he'd just stumbled and had been using it to hold himself up. The class had become deathly quiet.

Once he was standing up again Snape resumed his glare. This time Harry returned it unabashedly. He had another painful memory ready if he felt a presence in his mind, but if it had been Professor Snape who had attacked Harry, he didn't try again.

Harry saw a strange look cross Professor Snape's face before he looked away. "A point will be taken from Gryffindor house for Mr. Potter's disrespect to a teacher." Snape then went on to split everyone up into pairs and started them working on a simple potion to cure boils.

Professor Snape didn't teach like the other professors Harry had classes with. Most of them spent a great deal of time lecturing about what they were going to do before hand and explaining how and why they did it. Once he had everyone in pairs he pointed his want at the large chalkboard at the front of the class and the instructions for the potion appeared. Then he began to stalk around the classroom breathing down people's necks as they weighed their nettles and crushed their snake fangs.

Now Harry wasn't unfamiliar with tough instructors. Mr. Piccolo after all had abducted him and his brother Gohan when Harry when they were only four years old and left them alone in different places in the monster-filled wilderness of Yanzabit Heights. It had taken them three weeks to find each other. And they had to survive in that dangerous place for six months before Piccolo had returned and began their fighting training.

Piccolo favored negative reinforcement, much like Professor Snape seemed to. The reward for doing well was generally not having to climb back up the cliff he knocked them off of before they could get dinner or go to sleep that night. Piccolo also didn't appreciate explaining anything more than once, and getting him to repeat something was generally an unpleasant experience. But Snape didn't seem to want to give anything away. His criticism was the only time he told anyone how to do something. But it was difficult to figure out if you were grinding your snake fang fine enough, just by being told that someone on the other side of the room wasn't. And knowing that Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs perfectly, didn't tell him if he'd done it well or how to do it better. Draco Malfoy it seemed was the only person Professor Snape praised, and he was also the only one to avoid Professor Snape's harsh tongue.

But despite being used to extremely harsh training, Harry got the impression that Snape didn't like him. He seemed to hang over Harry's shoulder longer than most and he seemed more derogatory. Then while Snape was praising Malfoy once again, Neville Longbottom's potion started emitting a nasty smelling pail green smoke and melted through the cauldron onto the floor where it melted through the sneakers of anyone that wasn't fast enough to avoid it.

Snape vanished the potion before it got very far, but he was too late to save Neville who had been splattered by the explosion and was now covered in painful boils that were bursting all over his body. After enduring a tongue lashing for adding the porcupine quills before taking the potion off the fire he was sent to the nurse's office.

Then Professor Snape turned on Harry and yelled at him for not warning his classmate. Harry instantly started to feel bad for not paying closer attention and letting Neville down. He and Gohan had depended on each other for life and death those months in the wilderness and they had trained extensively to work as a team after that. And as soon as he'd gotten to this now school, he forgotten everything he'd ever learned and someone had gotten hurt because of it.

Harry was about to apologize when Professor Snape accused him of letting that happen to Neville so he would look smarter and took away another point from Gryffindor. Harry was furious at the accusation. He would probably have crushed part of the table if Ron hadn't have kicked him and told him not to push his luck. As it was he left marks in the table where his fingers were gripping it.

A very long hour later, Harry left the classroom calmer and certain that Snape hated him. If the snide comments and the looks he kept getting weren't evidence enough that he was being singled out. Then there was the fact that he was the only person to lose points in the class. Two points! In the first week!

Harry had lived a unique and in some ways sheltered life. He'd never met anyone that had hated him that wasn't also trying to kill him and most if not all life on the planet. So he didn't know how to deal with it. Snape wasn't trying to destroy him or anyone else, so Harry couldn't just blast him. He didn't know what to do and he'd already sent Hedwig off, so it would probably be weeks before he could send a letter home and get an answer back. It made him angry and when the bell rang Harry stormed out of the class.

Ron had to run to catch up. "Harry, don't worry about it," Ron called as he caught up to his agitated friend. "Snape's always taking points away from Fred and George. It'll be all right. Do you think it would be ok if I went with you to see Hagrid?"

The mention of Hagrid gave Harry something to take his mind off of the vengeful professor as well as a solution to his problem. So with his burden lifted Harry managed to enjoy his lunch and study for a couple of hours before he and Ron left to see Hagrid.

Hagrid lived just outside the castle in a small wooden house by the edge of the Forbidden Forest. To get to the door they had to step around a pair of huge boots and a large crossbow that had been left up against the wall. Harry's knock was answered by loud barking and cries of "Back Fang…Back Fang," before Hagrid called out for them to wait.

When the door opened Hagrid was holding back a large black boarhound. "Come in. Make yourselves at home," Hagrid reached out with one of his arms, gesturing expansively at his one room home. However in doing so he let go of Fang who took the opportunity to jump on top of Ron and lick his face and ears. Fang it seemed was like Hagrid. He only looked scary.

Hagrid's house had a cooking fire, with pots and pans, as well as a few hams and pheasants hanging from the ceiling on one side and a large bed covered by a patchwork quilt on the other.

"Uh, this is Ron." Harry introduced Hagrid to the boy he was pulling his pet off of.

"Ah, another Weasley," Hagrid smiled down at the redheaded boy. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest." Hagrid said as he prepared tea and set a plate full of rock cakes on the table.

Harry found the tea to be different than he was used to, but not unpleasant and the rock cakes were misshapen and crunchy, but they tasted all right. Ron however seemed aghast when he saw that Harry could eat them. The two boys spoke rapidly, telling Hagrid all about everything they'd done and seen and how strange and exciting it was. They were pleased when Hagrid had shared their opinion of not only Filch, but his cat. Hagrid insisted that Filch had convinced his cat to spy on him any time he entered the castle. The cat wouldn't stop following him, so Hagrid wanted to giver her _the boot_. So Ron no longer wanted to kick the cat, but to see Hagrid do it.

Once they were on the subject of people they disliked Harry told Hagrid about his problem with Snape and his class.

"Don' you worry bou' tha'," Hagrid replied. "Snape don' much like anybody. If he'd a been nice to ya' then I'd be worried."

"But it's not like that," Harry tried to explain. "I think he hates me or has something against me personally."

"Now wha' would make ya think that?" Hagrid asked, not quite meeting Harry's eyes.

"I'm the only person he took points from, and one of them was for something he caused."

"Now wha' could Snape do tha would make him take a point from ya'?" Hagrid seemed a little more confidant and sounded like he was only indulging Harry.

"Just as class was starting he was asking me a bunch of hard questions and wouldn't let anyone else answer them. He was getting mad that I could answer some of them and I felt another presence in my mind looking through my memories." What little of Hagrid's face that Harry could see went white and even Ron was stunned silent. "I tried to push whoever it was in my head out, but I couldn't, so I remembered when I di…the most painful thing I can remember and finally they left. But when I looked up Snape looked like he'd just stumbled and glared at me. So I glared back and he took a point. I'm sure he was trying to read my mind somehow."

"That's right Snape almost fell down right in front of everyone." Ron chimed in.

"I'm sure tha' must a' been a coincidence," Hagrid replied not meeting either of their eyes. "How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot…great with animals."

Ron started telling Hagrid about his brother getting a job in Romania working with dragons. It was interesting and Harry would have liked to know more about it, but he'd heard it all on the train ride to school. So Harry was left to brood over what Hagrid had told him. He was sure now that it had been Snape that had entered his mind. And he was very sure that not only did Snape hate him, but Hagrid knew why. But maybe they were right, if Harry could see how Snape treated everyone else for no good reason, why should he care what the jerk thought?

Harry was just about to rejoin the conversation when he saw a cutting from the newspaper on the table:

_**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**_

_Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown._

_Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied two days prior._

"_But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon._

Ron had told him about the break in, but he never mentioned the day. "Gringotts was broken into on my birthday?!" Harry exclaimed and double checked the article. '_The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied two days prior,'_ the article had said. "But it was emptied they day we were there. You don't think they…?"

Hagrid just grunted and interrupted Harry by offering him another rock cake. He let Hagrid change the subject. But he was now certain of something else. Whoever had robbed Gringotts was after whatever was in that bag Hagrid had taken from Gringotts.

* * *

Snape wasn't the only one who held a grudge against Harry. Malfoy had taken a week to get used to the school or maybe it was to get over the scare Harry had given him on the train. Now he seemed to think he was invincible. Malfoy swaggered around the school like a junkyard dog trying to put everyone in their place. Which was obviously somewhere beneath him 

But Draco couldn't read minds, so unlike with Snape, Harry didn't have any way to fight back and the boy's constant attempts to push around, bully and otherwise annoy the other students upset Harry. It reminded him of Frieza and Garlic Jr. and all the others he'd fought who seemed to think that they were better than everyone else and that consequentially it was their right to oppress them. But though he thought like those monsters, Malfoy didn't grievously harm anyone nor did he risk doing anything where he could get caught by a teacher, so Harry didn't know how to deal with him. And as time went on his attitude began to remind him of Cell, the monster that killed the only father he'd ever known. So Harry couldn't tell if he hated Malfoy of if he was just furious at being powerless to stop his viciousness.

Fortunately first year Gryffindors only had potions class with Slytherin and Harry had been too busy dealing with Snape to worry about nuisances like Draco. So Harry really only had to deal with him when they crossed paths in the halls. But that was soon to change.

When the time came to tutor Hermione with her math Harry found her with her noise glued to a book. _Quidditch Through the Ages_ seemed more like something Ron would read, not that Harry had ever really seen him read anything. When Harry asked her about it she pointed him to a notice on the wall. Flying lessons would begin Thursday and they would be having them with the Slytherins.

And while he was disappointed to have to have another lesson around Malfoy, it did look like it might be the perfect chance to put the arrogant ponce in his place. Malfoy had been spending the a lot of time gloating about how well he could fly and telling anyone that would listen tall tales about his flying exploits that always seemed to end with him barely escaping muggles in helicopters. And with the way Malfoy whined about first years not being able to have a broom and not being able to get on the Quidditch teams, Harry figured that showing him up while flying would hit him where it hurt the most.

Though the opportunity to try and end Malfoy's constant yapping appealed to Harry, it was overshadowed by his excitement about flying. Harry wanted to learn how witches and wizards flew, though he was preparing himself for possible disappointment. Needing to use brooms seemed awful limiting. But Harry loved flying and was excited to learn anything new about it.

And he didn't seem to be the only one. Once the notice was put up it seemed that flying was the only thing the first years talked about. The way Dean told it, you'd think he's spent half of his life on a broom flying around trees in the forests were he lived. Even Ron got into the act; repeatedly retelling the story about the time he'd almost hit a muggle hang-glider while riding on his brother, Charlie's old broom.

Though, not everyone was a confident as Harry when it came to flying. Hermione kept her face between the pages of _Quidditch Through the Ages _even skipping her math and science tutoring with Harry. And everywhere she went she offered anyone who would listen tips she'd gathered from her reading. Though it didn't take very long until only Neville Longbottom would listen too her.

Unlike most of the other students that grew up with magical parents, Neville had never flown. His Gran wouldn't let him. He was so accident-prone on the ground she didn't want to risk letting him in the air. And apparently Neville didn't want to risk it either.

Thursday afternoon arrived and all of the Gryffindor first years exited the castle for their flying lessons. The class was to take place on the far side of the castle from the forbidden forest. The air was clear and there was a nice breeze that sent ripples through the glass and tussled the young Gryffindors' hair. Perfect flying weather as far as Harry was concerned.

Madam Hooch and the Slyterins waited for them as they arrived. There were two rows of ten brooms lying on the ground. The Slytherins were standing next to the brooms on one side, leaving the other side for the Gryffindors.

Harry wondered if they hadn't come out early to get the best brooms. He'd heard Fred and George complain about the old school brooms, how some veered to one side or the other or started to vibrate if you rode them too fast. Harry hoped he didn't get one of those. He figured he could handle something that veered or had trouble with the steering. That might be fun, but he didn't want to be slowed down by a broom.

As they got closer Harry saw that the brooms were very old fashioned with thick twigs instead of narrow bristles.

"All right!" Madam Hooch called. She was a graceful woman with short curly gray hair and golden eyes above her straight nose. "Everyone beside a broom." She called out.

With a little bit of shuffling everyone got into position. Harry looked down at his broom and noticed that not only was it old fashioned, it was old. The wood looked worn and a little rough with age and there were several twigs sticking up at odd angles in the tail.

"Hold your right hand over your broom and say up." Madam Hooch called out.

"Up," twenty voices called out.

Harry was a little surprised when the broom leapt up making a slapping sound as it hit his palm. When Harry gripped the shaft of the broom he felt a slight rush of magical energy wash over him.

After a moment he looked up to see most of the rest of the class still trying to coax, cajole, convince or command their brooms to lift off the ground with varying results. Malfoy and a couple of others managed to get their broom in the air on what appeared to be their second or third tries. Justin's broom launched it self so high and fast it hit him in the face. Hermione's just rolled over and Neville's broom appeared to be completely ignoring him. Harry wondered if confidence wasn't an important part of this task, because there was a definite quaver in the way Neville said "up," and Hermione didn't look her normal self-assured self either.

Several minutes of controlled chaos later everyone finally had their brooms in their hands. Though Harry had caught a pug-faced Slytherin girl picking hers up while Madam Hooch wasn't looking.

Madam Hooch then demonstrated how to properly grip and mount the broom so you wouldn't fall off. Harry had enjoyed watching their flight instructor sigh wearily when Malfoy had the audacity to complain that he'd been doing it his way for years. Then Harry almost burst out laughing when she replied that Malfoy had been doing it wrong for years and forced him to do it _right_.

Once Madam Hooch was satisfied with the way everyone was holding their brooms she explained their next task. When she blew her whistle everyone was going to kick off the ground rise a few feet and hover there while they practiced keeping their brooms under control and then when she blew her whistle again they were going to lean forward to bring the broom back down.

"On three," Madam Hooch called. "Three, two…" Neville kicked off the ground prematurely and shot into the air. Harry didn't pay any attention to the instructor's shouts as he watched the hapless boy rocket into the air. Neville's face turned white as he reached the top of his arc and his inertia caused him to continue to rise slightly off his broom. Shocked by the sudden weightless feeling the boy loosened his grip and proceeded to slide off of his broom.

Harry saw Madam Hooch reaching for her wand, but she wasn't going to make it in time! Hoping everyone's eyes would still be on Neville, Harry took off. And faster than the untrained eye could see Harry approached the falling boy, jumped six feet into the air and caught him. Then landing in a crouch with Neville in his arms Harry sent clumps of grass and dirt into the air as he skidded to a stop.

When Harry looked up everyone was staring at him in shock, except for Hermoine who had an inquisitive look on her face. Ignoring them Harry set Neville back on his feet.

"Are you all right?" Harry asked Neville when he saw the boy wince and grip his wrist. The same wrist Harry realized that had hit him in the face when he'd caught Neville.

The injured boy just shook his head.

"Madam Hooch, I think Neville hurt his wrist." Harry called out trying to sound calm and hoping no one had seen Neville's arm smack him in the face as he caught him. It would be pretty hard to explain why Harry wasn't hurt when Neville broke his wrist on Harry's face.

Harry's words seemed to break the flight instructor out of her stupor. She lowered her wand and jogged toward the two boys. After a couple moments of examining Neville's wrist to determine it was likely broken.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing!" Madam Hooch yelled at the rest of the class. "You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say _Quidditch_."

Harry walked back toward the group keeping his head down hoping to avoid any difficult questions as Madam Hooch guided the now quietly sobbing Neville back toward the castle. Harry was trying to casually walk past Hermione when he heard Malfoy start to laugh.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?" The other Slytherins laughed at Malfoy's comment.

"Shut up Malfoy," one of the Grffindor girls, Parvarti Patil snapped.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" Pansy Parkinson, the Slytherin girl Harry had seen picking up her broom drawled. "Never thought you'd like fat little crybabies, Parvati."

"Look!" Malfoy's voice cut Parvarti's response short. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him." Malfoy bent over and picked up Neville's remember-all. It was a crystal ball the size of a large marble. Harry remembered how excited Neville was to get it in the mail this morning. Neville had squeezed it when he showed it to them and true to form the smoke in the ball turned red indicating Neville had forgotten something. Harry had been about to suggest that he was forgetting to send his gran a thank you note when Malfoy had stalked over and swiped the remember-all out of Neville's hand. Then the punk had gotten away with saying he was just looking when Professor McGonagall had arrived to prevent the altercation that had been about to erupt.

Knowing that he now had eyes on him Harry made sure to hold back his speed as he stalked toward Malfoy. Plastering an obviously fake smile on his face Harry reached out his hand. "Thank you for finding it Malfoy. Why don't you hand it to me so I can give it back to him?"

"Why should I Potter?" Draco spat. Maybe if he looked at the now red ball in his hand he'd remember that he'd forgotten exactly how scary Harry could be.

"Give it to me now," Harry's voice was barely more than a whisper.

Draco recognized the cold, gravelly tone in Harry's voice. He'd heard it before, on the train when Harry had given him the same cold nearly expressionless stare. And he radiated that same aura of killing intent as he did on that train.

Malfoy stepped back without even noticing what he'd done. He was about to hand over Neville's remember all when his eyes suddenly lost the cornered look in them and he smirked. "I don't think so," Malfoy said as he leapt on his broom and shot up into the air. "Maybe I'll leave it somewhere for him to find. How about up a tree?" With that Malfoy backed toward a tree to illustrate his point.

Harry could see that Malfoy's bragging about his flying abilities were not totally unfounded. He handled his broom easily. Malfoy was pretty good. But not good enough, Harry smirked to himself.

"What are you going to do now Potter?" This time the voice came from one of the Slytherins on the ground. Harry saw it was the dark skinned boy he'd met in the bookstore. He now knew the boy's name was Blaise Zabini. "You gonna try to magic yourself to fly?"

Harry stopped and stood up straight. He had been bending his knees to leap into the air. But stopped when he heard what Blaise had said, remembering he didn't want to show everyone his abilities. Angry he reached out with his hand and a broom slapped into his palm. Without wasting a moment he mounted it and was in the air. He didn't notice the three other brooms that had leapt from their places in the grass fell back to the ground.

Once on the broom Harry shot into the air, leaving the distractions on the ground behind. He barely heard Hermione's shouts begging him to come back down before he got hurt or in trouble. Harry had half expected to have to fight the broom or at worse fly like he normally did while holding the broom in such a way it looked like he was flying. But the moment he got on the broom his instincts took over. It was like he'd always known how to fly on a broom and was just now getting back on after not having the opportunity to fly one in a long time. The broom responded to the movements he made on it just like he thought it should and he could feel some of his power combining with the broom's.

After only a couple of seconds to move around and get used to the broom Harry turned to face Malfoy. "There's no one here to protect you now Malfoy. Give me back the remember-all or you'll be eating dirt."

"I don't think so Potter!" Malfoy smirked, though he didn't look near as confident as he had been when he'd been alone in the air. "We're in the air now. And up here I'm king."

Harry smirked. He finally had a way he could fight back and he was going to show the arrogant ponce that he couldn't push everyone around. Leaning forward Harry shot straight toward Malfoy, who lazily floated over Harry.

After that the dogfight began in earnest with mostly Harry trying to ram into Malfoy or get in his way to make him fall of his broom. Malfoy tried to cut off Harry a couple times, but Harry seemed more than content to collide with him so Draco had to give up and spent most of his time avoiding Harry.

Back on the ground the other students watched the aerial battle intently. "Oh no," Hermione whimpered as she watched the combatants fly higher and higher into the sky. Their game flying game of tag had only gone on for a couple of minutes, but they had already gone flown above the castle's highest towers. "He's letting Malfoy lure him up too high!"

The Slytherins all snickered, imagining the disappointment of a hero crashing in a bloody heap on the castle lawn.

"Fame won't get him out of this," one of the Slytherins commented

"That'll teach him not to act tough," another one said snidely.

"No," a calm voice interrupted the Slytherin mocking. Hermione looked toward the sound of the voice, surprised to see that it was the jerk Ronald Weasley who had spoken. The prat didn't even have the decency to look away from the fight when he continued speaking. "See the way he's always flying at Malfoy from below and how he gets in Malfoy's way every time he tries to go lower. Harry is the one forcing Malfoy up."

"But Harry's never been on a broom before and Malfoy has been flying for years!" Hermione screamed.

"Maybe," Ronald's voice stayed just as calm as before, only now Hermione thought she could detect a bit of awe in his voice as well. "But Malfoy doesn't fly half as well as Harry does."

Up in the air Harry was enjoying himself. After only a few passes he'd started to get the hang of steering and started being more daring that Malfoy seemed to be willing to try. Though in all fairness Harry didn't have to worry about hurting himself if he fell, Malfoy did. Harry would fly in one direction and then use his body to jerk the broom into an odd angle and suddenly fly off in another direction. It was actually easier to do when flying without a broom, but something about added difficulty made it more fun and gave him a few ideas for things to try with normal flying.

Malfoy, however was beginning to panic. He'd let Potter take him too high. And judging by the knowing smirk on the dark haired boy's face he'd known what he was doing all along. "You're crazy," Malfoy screamed after Harry had blocked him from descending again.

Harry just smirked and looked down. "It's an awful long fall, you reckon you'll land on your feet?"

"Stay away from me!" Malfoy screamed again and then threw the remember-all in one direction and dived in the other.

Harry pulled back and launched himself straight up into the air for a moment and let the broom stop. Unlike Neville, Harry closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of his momentum carrying him slightly up off his broom and the feeling of weightlessness for that moment he was stationary in the air. It had been one of his favorite things to do ever since he learned how to fly.

He turned over facing down as he felt the pull of gravity slowly increase his speed as he fell. Then he powered up the broom to as fast as he could make it go and dove toward the falling glass ball.

Harry had always loved the feeling of free fall. As much as he loved the freedom of flying there was just something about the feeling of the wind whip by you as you moved without doing anything that he always got when he fell. He'd often flown up and allowed himself to fall, pulling up at the last moment. And the broom just added to that feeling. He knew he was going to love dives on it.

Malfoy hadn't paid attention to where he'd thrown the remember-all or what Harry had done as he dived toward the ground as fast as he could. Pulling up as he got level with some of the trees he finally looked around.

The Gryffindors on the field watched in terror as Harry dived at breakneck speeds straight for the ground. The Slytherins seemed to be eager to see Potter plant himself into the ground. He was going to catch the glass ball before it hit the ground, but it would be difficult if not impossible to stop before he ploughed into the ground.

Harry reached out and grabbed the remember-all in one hand and with the other he yanked up on the broomstick as hard as he could. Knowing that it wouldn't be enough Harry used his legs to jerk the broom into an up right position and poured on the throttle for all it was worth as soon as he managed to get the broom pointing up.

The grass blew in a large wave emanating from where the back of Harry's broom nearly touched the ground along with a small dust cloud. Grinning widely Harry stepped off the broom gently onto the grass as the class stared at him in awe. Harry couldn't help but laugh as he tossed the remember-all into the air and grabbed it as it fell. He'd beaten Malfoy! He'd finally had the opportunity to fight back against the little tyrant and he'd won!

"HARRY POTTER!"

Harry looked back toward the entrance of the school and his spirits shrunk. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. She seemed to be apoplectic with anger and was having trouble completing sentences. "…Never, in all my years…How could you…You could have broken your neck!"

"I would have been…" Harry began to mutter.

"Not another word from you Mr. Potter." McGonagall interrupted. "You will follow me."

"But it's not his fault." Parvarti called out in Harry's defense.

"Be quiet Ms. Patil," McGonagall replied calmly now.

"But Malfoy…"

"That's enough, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, _now_."

Harry lowered his head and followed Professor McGonagall. It seemed that despite everything Malfoy was going to have the last laugh. He'd only been at school for two weeks and now he was going to be expelled. What would Mr. Piccolo say after everything he'd done to get him here? What would his mum say?!

Now that thought scared him. Even if his mother wasn't happy with Harry learning magic, she would never accept him being expelled, even if he'd been saving the world. And he definitely hadn't been doing that. He wouldn't be leaving the house for months! And he'd have to catch up with Gohan in addition to whatever punishment mum gave him.

Gohan! Since Harry was only adopted, unlike Gohan, Harry didn't have their father's Saiyan blood running through his veins. And Magic was Harry's only chance to become his brother's equal again. And because he'd forgotten that he'd put everything at risk. What was Malfoy really? Just an insignificant bully.

Harry was so caught up in his recriminations that he barely noticed as they walked through the castle's front doors and instead of heading toward Professor McGonagall's office they headed toward the third floor.

"Excuse me, Professor Flitwick, could I borrow Wood for a moment?"

Wood? Harry thought. Were they going to cane him? A part of him hoped she would. Unless there was some magic to it he'd be getting off Scott free! Unless they told his mum, but if they let him stay even that wouldn't be so bad…

Harry's emotional rollercoaster ride was cut short when Wood stepped out of Professor Flitwicks's classroom. Wood was a burly fifth year boy with broad shoulders.

"Follow me you two." McGonagall ordered, already walking away.

Wood just looked at Harry curiously before following Professor McGonagall. Despite his size it didn't seem that Wood had been summoned to cane Harry. But what was going to happen? Harry thought confusedly as he followed the other two.

He didn't have to wait long as Professor McGonagall waved them into an empty classroom just down the hall. Empty that is except for the poltergeist Peeves, who left after making as much noise as he could. Harry didn't pay the pest much attention, as he tried to determine how best to proceed. Whether he should speak up in his defense or wait to get a better idea of what was happening. He couldn't afford to be kicked out of school; not if he didn't know if he'd be able to continue to learn magic if he was.

Professor McGonagall slammed the door behind the departing nuisance and turned back to face the two boys. 'Potter, this is Oliver Wood. Wood…I've found you a Seeker."

Wood's curious expression seemed to melt off of his face and was replaced with on of sheer delight. "Are you serious, Professor?"

"Absolutely," Professor McGonagall said, quavering excitedly. She reminded Harry of how his mother looked when she started talking about how Harry and Gohan were going to graduate from college and get great jobs and take care of their mother one day. "The boy's a natural. I've never seen anything like it." Professor McGonagall said airily. "Was that your first time on a broomstick, Potter?

"Yes ma'am," Harry blurted out reflexively. The Predatory look in Professor McGonagall's eyes unnerved him. She obviously wanted him for something and it made him worry that he might very well be getting into something over his head. But it looked like he was going to be able to stay.

"He flew circles around Mr. Malfoy using stunt moves I've never even seen before. Then he caught something smaller than a gobstone after a huge full speed vertical dive which he stopped by throwing his broom into a vertical hover inches off the ground."

"That's incredible! I don't think even Charlie Weasley ever tried that!" Wood shook his head back and forth between Harry and McGonnagal not sure which one to gawk at. Harry was starting to get annoyed waiting to find out what was going on and being talked about like he wasn't even there.

"I don't even think James Potter could have done it," McGonagall answered.

Wood's expression began to resemble Professor McGonagall's as he turned to face Harry. "Ever seen a game of Quidditch, Potter?"

"No, sir, But I've heard a lot about it. So I'm really looking forward to seeing a game." Harry was starting to miss being talked about like he wasn't there.

"Wood's captain of the Gryffindor team," Professor McGonagall said as if it explained everything.

"He's just about the right build for a Seeker, too," Wood walking around Harry and staring at him. "A little bulky, but still pretty light and speedy…we'll have to get him a decent broom, Professor…a Nimbus Two Thousand or a Cleansweep Seven, I'd say."

"I shall speak to Professor Dumbledore and see if we can't bend the first-year rule." Her face became all business again. "Heaven knows, we need a better team than last year. Flattened in that last match by Slytherin, I couldn't look Severus Snape in the face for weeks..."

Professor McGonagall tried to give Harry a stern look, but her lips kept twitching. "I want to hear you're training hard, Potter, or I may change my mind about punishing you." Then she suddenly smiled. "Your father would have been proud. He was an excellent Quidditch player himself."

With that Professor McGonagall left a dumb struck Harry behind with a very eager captain.

Harry was still overwhelmed by the whole thing when he told Ron about it at diner time. He'd been railroaded into joining the quidditch team. They'd never even asked him once. But for the chance to understand a little bit more about his birth father he'd do it. He just hoped that his mum didn't find out.

Ron however couldn't understand why they should need to ask. Who would say no? "But first years never…" Ron was so excited he was having trouble speaking in full sentences. "Blimey Harry, you must be the youngest house player in about…"

"A century according to Wood" Harry replied before putting another bite of steak and Kidney pie into his mouth. "I start training next week, but don't tell anybody, Wood wants it kept a secret."

Ron was speechless and just sat there with a bite of food halfway between his plate and mouth. He was still like that nearly a minute later when his brother's Fred and George arrived in the great hall and rushed over to give their own congratulations to Harry.

"Wood told us, we're on the team too," George said softly.

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," Fred said excitedly. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry, Wood was grinning like a madman when he told us."

"Looked like he was about to conquer the world, he did," George piped in.

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Harry was still getting used to the way Fred and George spoke back and forth like that, but they had given him an idea.

The two had barely left when Malfoy came swaggering up flanked by his mindless goons Crabbe and Goyle. "So Potter, having your last meal?" Malfoy asked. "When are they sending you back to wherever it is you came from?"

"What? Are you being expelled Malfoy?" Harry asked innocently.

"What? Why would I be expelled?" Malfoy asked a little too loudly.

"Well Professor McGonagall did see both of us in the air today." Harry said absently before going back to his dinner, pointedly ignoring the pail boy.

At first Malfoy was scared that he'd been caught, but that quickly turned to anger. "Potter if you've gotten me in trouble it will be the last thing you ever do." Crabbe and Goyle recognized their cue to look menacing and started to scowl and massage their knuckles.

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your stooges with you." Harry stared at Malfoy stonily

Malfoy leaned back for a second before he regained his composure "I'd take you on anytime on my own. Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wands only—no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel before, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," Ron finally put down the bite of food he'd been holding in front of his face for the last few minutes and joined the conversation, preventing Harry from speaking "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy jerked back for a second then looked over at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up. "Crabbe," he decided. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

"Wait a second," Harry said firmly as Malfoy was turning to leave. "I'm not fighting in the trophy room so you can try and get me in trouble when it gets torn up."

"What's the matter Potter?" Malfoy taunted. "Scared to fight me one on one? You going to back out on our duel now that it's already been decided?"

"Of course he's not," Ron interjected. "We'll be there, make sure you're not late."

"Good," Malfoy said and stalked off too fast for Harry to say anything else without alerting the teachers who were sitting at the staff table.

Harry couldn't believe it. That was the second time he'd been railroaded into something today. "Why did you accept that for me? You know he's up to something?"

"Oh don't worry," Ron replied, finally getting back to his dinner. "Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. I bet he expected you to refuse, anyway."

Harry was about to tell his friend off. He could after all do far more in a fight than shoot sparks at his opponent, even if he wasn't allowed to touch him.

"Excuse me." Harry looked up to see that it was Hermione that had interrupted him.

"Can't anyone let us eat in peace?" Ron mumbled under his breath.

Harry looked at Hermione embarrassedly. "What is it Hermione?"

"Harry, I couldn't help but overhear…"

"Bet you could have," Ron muttered again

Hermione ignored him this time and kept speaking to Harry. "…And you mustn't go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"Don't worry I'm not going to duel Malfoy." Harry answered back. He decided he was going to put a stop to this. He'd never agreed to anything.

"But…" Ron began, but stopped when Harry kicked him lightly under the table.

"Hmmpf," Hermione crossed her arms and stormed off.

Sometimes Harry just didn't understand that girl. For that matter sometimes he couldn't understand Ron either. No matter how much he insisted that he wasn't going to duel Malfoy Ron just kept insisting that he wasn't going to let Harry go alone. Then he kept interrupting Harry's homework with useless tips like _if he curses you be sure to dodge, because I don't remember how you're supposed to block them_.

With Ron watching him like a hawk, Harry didn't dare turn himself invisible to sneak out like he wanted. He had spent several hours in the past couple of weeks exploring the castle looking for a place to train, but he had never snuck around at night. But tonight the twins had given him the idea to look for a way out of the castle and he didn't think it would be good to be caught doing that during the day.

So, Harry decided to go to bed early planning to get up early to explore the castle. Ron thought it was a _good idea to be sure he was rested for the duel_ and promised to wake him up in time. Giving up Harry didn't correct him. He just sighed and shook his head before he stripped himself down for bed.

And just as Harry Ron shook him awake at a quarter to 11. "Harry…Harry, hurry up and get dressed or we'll be late."

"I'm not going," Harry rolled over to face away from Ron. He didn't realize he wasn't speaking English

"Come on mate," Ron shook him. "We don't want to be late."

"It'll be a boring fight anyway," Harry mumbled, still in his native tongue while he pulled his pillow over his head.

"Speak English Harry," Ron yanked Harry's pillow away from his sleeping friend.

That woke him up. "What did you have to go and wake me up for?" Harry asked testily and in English this time.

"I'm you second," Ron said proudly. "It's my job to make sure you get to your duel on time."

Harry's hand flashed out so fast that Ron couldn't see it and took the pillow back. "I told you I'm not going to duel Malfoy." Harry put his pillow back under his head and turned away from Ron again.

"But we agreed…"

"No you agreed Ron." Harry said without turning his head.

"I can't believe you're scared of Malfoy," Ron rasped out.

Harry sighed angrily as he turned to face his friend. "Look Ron, Malfoy is just trying to get us expelled."

"Well I'm not going to let him call me a coward." Ron declared. "I'm going." And with that Ron stomped out of their dorm room.

"Wait Ron," Harry rasped as loud as he dared, but Ron didn't listen.

Harry jumped out of bed to follow Ron grabbing some clothes and trying to dress as he went. He caught up in the common room and was about to try and stop him when he sensed that they weren't alone in the darkened room. A moment later a lamp flickered on revealing Hermione sitting in one of the over stuffed chairs. She wore a fuzzy pink robe below her scowl.

"You go back to bed!" Ron yelled at the perceived intruder.

Hermione didn't seem to be phased by the outburst. "I almost told your brother, Percy, he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"And you!" Hermione turned to berate Harry now. "Did you really expect me to believe a lie like that? And what are you doing down here without a…shirt?" Hermione swallowed hard, she'd never seen a boy with muscles like Harry's. He looked like one of those old Greek statues…only stronger. She didn't think boys could look like that until they got older.

"I wasn't lying! Like I keep trying to tell Ron here, I have no intention of fighting Mal…." Harry was distracted from his rant when he noticed that Ron was no longer standing next to him.

Growling to himself Harry marched out the portrait hole after Ron. When he got into the corridor he found Ron waiting for him.

"Put your Robe on," Ron ordered.

Harry threw his robe over his head and was about to continue trying to dissuade Ron from his poorly thought out course of action, but Hermione beat him to it. Without Harry's muscles in front of her to distract her she'd come out of her trance and followed them out of the common room.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor? Do you only care about yourselves? I don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away," Ron was vehement.

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so…" Hermione stopped suddenly. The fat lady's portrait was empty.

"Now what am I going to do?" Hermione asked when she realized that with the fat lady gone she couldn't get back in.

"Not our problem," Ron said almost gleefully. "Let's go Harry." And with that he walked off.

"Ron wait," Harry whispered loudly as he followed the stalking boy. He was about to try again to dissuade his friend when Hermione's presence stopped him one more time.

"I'm coming with you," she said as she caught up to them.

"No you are not," Ron was determined.

"Do you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all three of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you, and you can back me up." Harry didn't think that she'd run into Filch yet if she thought that plan was going to work.

"You've got some nerve…" Ron was incensed.

"Quiet," Harry whispered harshly. "I heard something."

Everyone stood rigid and listened for the noise Harry heard. It was some kind of snuffling sound.

"Is it Mrs. Norris?" Ron's voice quavered.

"No," Harry answered, "cats aren't that loud." Harry sensed someone around the corner, but he didn't know who. Normally his friends had such drastically different power levels that it was pretty easy to figure out which one was which just by the feel of their energy. But with everyone in the castle's energy being so low and not quite having gotten used to the strange energy everything magical seemed to have, Harry could only recognize the energy of a couple of people he was around a lot or who had particularly distinct energies like Dumbledore, or Quirrell. And whoever was around the corner wasn't either of them.

Taking a quick look around the corner, hopefully too fast for anyone to see, Harry saw that it was a student sleeping on the cold floor. Waving his hand for his friends to follow he crept toward the sleeping boy.

Neville jerked awake as they got closer. "Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville." Hermione whispered. "The password's 'Pig snout' but it won't help you now; the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" Harry asked.

"Fine," Neville flexed his wrist to show them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good," Harry smiled, before his eyebrows suddenly shot up and he reached into his pocket. "Oh and here, you dropped this." Harry said quietly as he handed Neville back his remember all.

"Thank you," Neville replied earnestly. "I was worried I'd already lost it after only having it for a day."

"It was nothing," Harry smiled and waived his hand dismissively. "Now we need to find a place we can hide until the Fat Lady gets back."

Hermione was shocked that Harry didn't brag or say anything about Malfoy, but Ron was more concerned about other things. "We don't have time! These two can find some place on their own. We need to get going or we'll be late." Ron tugged on Harry's arm.

"No, Ron." Harry jerked his arm free. "I told you I'm not walking into Malfoy's trap."

"I can't believe you're scared of Malofy," Ron shot back.

"Ron, Malfoy has nothing to do with it," Harry replied. "I haven't learned enough that I can afford to be expelled."

"Harry's right you'll all be expelled," Hermione interjected.

"Well you can stay and hide like a coward, but I'm going. No one is going to say that a Ron Weasley was afraid!" And with that Ron stormed off.

Seeing that Ron felt strongly about it, Harry knew that he wasn't going to be able to change his mind. So he sighed resignedly and followed his friend. Without hesitating Hermione followed as well.

"Don't leave me!" Neville cried as he scrambled after them, "I don't want to stay here alone; the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron just scowled at them, quieting Neville, and continued. The four of them moved quickly through the castle making far too much more noise that Harry was comfortable with until he rasped at them to move quietly.

Without the noise of the hurrying students the normally bright and cheerful castle took on a much more eerie feel. The halls were dark, only faintly illuminated by the starlight through the upper windows. Harry did his best to sense anyone coming, but the castle radiated magic and Harry was scared that it might interfere with his ability to detect anyone coming, especially something as weak as a cat. And the moving shadows in the corners or at the feet of the statues and suits of armor were nearly making him jump expecting to see a pair of glowing green eyes looking back at him from the shadows.

Eventually the crept up a flight of stairs onto the third floor and crept into the trophy room. The room was filled with glass cabinets filled with Trophies, plaques and miniature statues that seemed alive in the twinkling starlight. Malfoy wasn't there.

Harry leaned against one of the display cabinets and closed his eyes to better help him reach out with his senses while everyone else looked nervously at the doors on either side of the room. After several minutes Ron looked at his watch one last time and was about to speak up when Harry whispered, "Somebody's coming."

Everyone twisted their heads to point their ears toward the far doors, each visibly leaning as if to get as close to the sound as possible. After several long seconds they finally began to hear something that eventually resolved itself into the sound of muttering. And it didn't sound like Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Mr. Filch and Mrs. Norris. Instantly everyone rushed out of the room as quietly as they could manage. They had barely gotten out of the room when they heard Filch enter it. "They're in here somewhere, probably hiding." The caretaker muttered

Careful not to make a sound Harry tilted his head to indicate the direction everyone could go. They stalked as quickly as they dared down a corridor filled with suits of armor. Harry could sense Filches energy getting closer as they moved when suddenly Neville gave a frightened yelp and tripped knocking Ron and himself into a suit of armor. If Filch didn't know where they were before, the loud banging from the suit of armor hitting the floor could have led the whole castle to them.

"Run." Harry yelled as he took off. The rest weren't far behind. Keeping track of where Filches energy was he led them through several twists and turns trying to be sure to keep some walls between them and Filch they ran through a tapestry into one of the castles many secret passages.

Neville bent over wheezing as they all came to a stop on the other side of the hidden tunnel. "I think we lost him," Harry said as he looked around, spotting the charms classroom.

"I…told…you," Hermione gasped out, one of her arms wrapped around her gripping a stitch in her ribs, "I…told…you,"

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower as quickly as possible." Ron said.

"Malfoy tricked you," Hermione turned to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you. Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry wanted to tell her that he'd been saying that it was a trap the entire time, but now wasn't the time for recriminations or the argument that would probably be started if he told her that. "Let's go."

But they didn't make it far. They couldn't have gone twelve steps before something flew through one of the classroom doors.

Peeves was still halfway inside the door when he spotted them and started laughing. No one dared say anything.

"Wandering around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty." Peeves said in a singsong voice.

Neville whimpered while everyone else stared at the poltergeist silently. "Only if you give us away, please Peeves," Hermione did her best to look her cutest as she pleaded. It was a wasted effort.

"Should tell Filch, I should," Peeves tried to sound saintly, but his eyes gave him away. "It's for your own good, you know."

Finally Ron couldn't take it and rushed at Peeves to try and slug him. It was the wrong thing to do.

Peeves dodged and bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED! STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

The four students ran for it, ducking under Peeves they were stopped at the end of the corridor by a locked door.

"This is it!" Ron moaned defeated, as rattled the door knob. "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear Filches footsteps echoing through the secret passage they'd used. Any second now he'd come out the passage they'd used and be able to see them.

"Oh move over," Hermione said disgustedly. Grabbing Ron's wand out of his pocket she tapped it against the lock and incanted "Alohomora." The door instantly clicked and silently swung opened on its own. Without wasting a moment they all rushed in closing the door behind them as quietly as they could.

Ron and Hermione put their ears to the door. They could hear Filch talking to Peeves. Neville however, Harry was pretty sure was looking at the same thing he was, because he could hear the boy whimper.

Standing right in front of them was the biggest dog Harry had ever seen. As it stood up it filled the entire corridor. Which Harry now realized must be the forbidden corridor, and this monstrosity must be the cause of the painful death Dumbledore had mentioned. The beast was not only large, but had three heads, each with bared yellow fangs in their drool dripping mouths. Above them six crazed eyes were rolling in its heads. Harry could tell that they had surprised it, but it was getting over it and was starting to growl.

Excited, Harry chuckled and began channeling more of his ki, strengthening him and causing his robes to flap around in an unseen breeze for a moment. He had never seen a dog like this one and fighting it promised to be the most fun he'd had in weeks.

The dog began to step toward him and Harry grinned and leaned forward into a light on his toes fighting stance. This is probably what allowed Ron and Neville to be able to pull him out off his feet and out the door.

"I'll never call you a coward again," Ron said as Hermione shut the door and incanted something, presumably to lock it. "You're crazy! I can't believe you're scared of Malfoy and willing to fight a monster like that!"

Ignoring Ron, Harry reached out with his senses to find Filch. He'd apparently left when he couldn't find them and was now moving down another corridor, presumably looking for them. "This way," Harry whispered and led them down the opposite way from Filch and Dumbledore who Harry could sense rapidly approaching from the same direction.

They took off at a run and didn't stop until they got to they got to the Fat Lady's portrait. "Where on earth have you all been?" The Fat Lady, now back in her portrait asked. Her eyes flashed back and fort between Harry and the three sweating and panting students.

"Hell's very own kennel," Harry replied before giving the password: "Pig Snout." The Fat Lady didn't look satisfied with Harry's answer when she swung open letting them in.

No one spoke for several moments once they all got inside. Harry noticed that the dog had somehow managed to slobber drool all over his robes. He took them off and began to wipe himself off with some of the dryer portions.

Neville's face seemed to fade from a flushed red to white and Ron seemed to be getting angry as his breathing got back under control. "What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?"

Hermione's bad temper came back as her breathing came under control. "You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"Do you mean the trap-door?" Harry asked uncertainly.

Hermione looked shocked for a moment before answering. "Yes, it was obviously guarding something." Hermione crossed her arms.

Harry just grinned back at her. "Very good, Hermione I'm impressed. Most people would have been too scared of the dog to take a good look at its surroundings." Harry was now done wiping himself off and was now holding his robe crumpled in one of his fist

Blushing Hermione turned away from Harry's naked chest and did her best to sound imperious. "I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed—or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth open. "No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you." None of the boys saw how flushed she was as she climbed the staircase to the girl's dorms.


	5. No Holds Barred

Hermione explained.**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

Disclaimer: See Chapter 1. I offered to wrestle a troll for it, but they won't give me the rights. JK is a sissy!

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Chapter 5: No Holds Barred

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The next day Harry had something to consider. He remembered Hagrid saying that there was no better place than Gringotts to keep something safe, _except for Hogwarts_. He was pretty sure that whatever had been in that little sack was what was now guarded by that three-headed dog. He didn't have any proof, but everything fit together too well for it not to be. 

Harry tried to share this information with Ron, Hermione and Neville at breakfast, but Hermione seemed to be torn about whether or not she was speaking with him and Neville didn't want to know what was under the three-headed monster as if knowing what was under it might one day make him have to go near the beast again. Ron on the other hand seemed to think it had been a great adventure now that he had the benefit of a night's sleep and no reason to have to go back. Unfortunately without more clues it didn't look like they would be solving the mystery of what had been in the grubby bag.

Malfoy however wasn't at all pleased about their adventure. He'd been shocked to see them when he'd come down for breakfast. They were shoveling away food and talking animatedly like they did every morning. By the time he sat down Draco was furious and glaring daggers at Harry, which he seemed to ignore.

Sitting at the Gryffindor table Harry did his best to look oblivious to Malfoy, not wanting to give him the satisfaction of being acknowledged, but the more he thought about it the more furious he was. Draco didn't know about Harry's powers and why he needed to learn magic so he couldn't claim the boy was trying to put the world in jeopardy. And to be fair if he couldn't catch up with his brother's power his brother was still there, so Harry wasn't needed; he just didn't want to be useless again while people he cared about fought. But if he and Ron were expelled they might not be able to learn magic anywhere else. And Malfoy had no way of knowing that Harry could work in the Muggle world and he was sure Ron couldn't. So the boy was willing to ruin their lives and for what? Power…prestige…in a school? The more he thought about it the more he thought that Malfoy was scum and he wanted to teach the punk a lesson with his fists.

Harry wasn't looking forward to the start of the day, because it was Friday and that meant potions and Snape again. Draco and his two cronies got up and followed Harry and Ron out. Draco was obviously still miffed, but he'd calmed down when he'd received another package of homemade sweets delivered by their stately eagle owl that morning. He was munching on one of the baked goods his mother had sent when he started to taunt Harry. "Don't seem to get mail much do you Potter?"

Harry stopped. Of all the things Malfoy could have commented about he hadn't expected that. "Draco, I'm touched that you're so concerned about me that you watch how much mail I get," Harry put a hand over his heart. "But is it really healthy for you to spend so much time following me around?"

Draco ignored Harry's insult and the laughing in the hallway that accompanied it and pressed on acting shocked himself. "Well I was just worried. I heard that they'd shipped you off to live with muggles and it doesn't look like they like you much since they don't seem to ever even write you."

Despite being adopted, Harry had never questioned his family's love for him. How could he? Through the years they'd all risked their lives to protect each other. So, Harry looked at Malfoy like he was stupid for a minute before he finally realized what the boy had been insinuating. When he realized he just laughed. "My _family_," Harry stressed the word, "lives a long ways away, it takes a long time for Hedwig to get there and back."

"Oh come on Potter do you expect us to believe that excuse? My family's owl can get all the way from London to here and back in a day." Malfoy reached out expansively and got a lot of positive nods and murmurs from the small crowd that was gathering.

"My family lives on the other side of the world." Harry replied

"Yeah, right Potter, you may have an accent, but you don't sound American." The crowd still seemed to be eating out of Malfoy's hands.

"My family lives in asia," Harry replied before he thought better of it.

"Oh and I suppose they speak English over there or do you speak Asian?" Malfoy taunted as if he'd caught Harry in an obvious lie.

Harry was about to ask the idiot Malfoy if he spoke European, but he saw a couple of girls walking through the slightly crowded hallway. They looked to be a year or two older than him, but one of them was of obvious Asiatic decent. "/Pardon me, but do you speak Japanese?/" he asked the Asian girl in flawless Japanese. Not that Malfoy could have recognized the difference and apparently neither could the girl as she just blushed and shook her head. Malfoy just laughed but before he could say anything Harry asked again, this time in another eastern language. Everyone stood in shock as Harry asked in two more languages before he got to Mandarin.

The girl blushed even redder and smiled widely before responding that she did speak Mandarin and asking if Harry had ever been to China. Harry replied that he had and wanting to steer the conversation away from the possible location of his family told the girl that she had a pretty smile.

That was when the pretty Asian girl started acting strange. She squeaked and lunged forward kissing him on the cheek and then grabber her friend and ran. Harry may have been a couple of years younger than her, but he was still a celebrity after all.

Before Harry could spend any time trying to figure out the girl, whose name he hadn't even had the chance to ask, Draco interrupted his thoughts with a displeased noise and stomped off toward potions.

"You dog, what did you say to her?" Ron asked.

"I just said she had a pretty smile, was all," Harry replied and grinned. "Maybe you should see what would happen if you told Hermione that she had a pretty smile," Harry suggested.

Ron nearly choked before warning that they didn't want to be late for potions and started dragging Harry along. Once there, Harry's elation at his victory over Malfoy was short lived. Snape didn't treat him any better than he had the first time. And when he'd caught the piece of cod liver that Malfoy had tried to throw into his cauldron Snape had berated him for trying to add it to soon and had taken another point away from Gryffindor.

After a weekend of scouring the castle looking for secret passages the next week started looking better for Harry. One morning during breakfast six of the loudest and most colorful owls he had ever seen carried a long narrow package into the great hall and dropped it in the middle of the table in front of him. There was a note attached to the package, which Harry was surprised to see was addressed to him. With everyone's eyes on him Harry opened the note.

_Dear Harry,_

_Congratulations on making the team. Your father would have been very proud. I can't wait to tell Moony about this! When Professor McGonagall told me how you got on the team, out flying that ponce, Draco your first time on a broom, well I just wished I had been there to see it. Well I won't be missing your first big game, and maybe we'll get a chance to talk and you can tell me about all the trouble you've caused and the secret passages you've found so far. I might be able to even show you a few and give you a couple of ideas for pranks._

_Well anyway I'm supposed to be writing this note so you don't open your late birthday present at the table where everyone can see. It's a prototype Nimbus 2001. Next year it'll be the fastest broom on the market, but yours will be a little faster. Right now they're looking to slow the next version down because it's so powerful it accelerates over four times faster than the best deceleration charms they can make right now. You're mum, bless her soul, would have had a fit if she knew I was giving you a broom that wasn't safe enough for mass production, but from what I've heard you can handle it. And if I know Potters you'll want the broom with the most power in the air._

_Inside the package you'll also find a pouch with the 10 galleons Moony and I owe your father. I bet you'd play beater because of the way you used to bop all of us except your mum when we were playing with you when you were a baby. I think you dad would have bet chaser, but Moony beat him to it, he said you'd want to be a chaser like your dad, so your dad picked seeker, because it requires a lot more skill at flying than keeper._

_McGonagall doesn't want you to open it in the great hall. She says that if you open in where everyone can see it all the first years will be pestering her to let them have a broom too. I don't see what the big deal is. They'll see you on it during your first game anyway. So I say go ahead and open it._

_Your friend in Marauding Excellence,_

_Sirius Black_

_P.S. I almost forgot, you're supposed to go to the Quidditch pitch at 7 tonight. The captain will give you your first practice then. Bring your broom._

Maybe it was the way Harry chuckled when at parts of the small letter, or maybe it was the amount of time he took staring at the note as he read it twice, or maybe it was just because Professor McGonagall could smell trouble brewing at a thousand paces, but when Harry looked up from the missive he looked straight into McGonagall's stern eyes.

"I suspect you'll want to head back to your dorm to open that before class starts Mr. Potter," McGonagall's tone of voice made it clear that he wasn't going to get away with opening the package in the great hall.

"Yes ma'am," Harry replied instinctively. He might have wanted to stay and have another serving of breakfast, but he didn't want to press his luck with Professor McGonagall. He'd just have to have a bigger lunch if he was hungry.

Nodding to Ron, Harry stood up and spun the new broomstick, still in its paper wrapping, in the air to get a feel for its weight before slinging it over his shoulder and walking out. Ron got up to follow, but fell behind as he buttered several muffins to take with him.

Ron hadn't quite caught up when Harry found Malfoy, complete with his two stooges blocking his way up stairs. Harry thought about walking right by them, but even though they couldn't stop him, they could stop Ron.

Malfoy stalked over to Harry and attempted to grab the package out of his hand, but all he managed was to rip the paper revealing the deep cherry wood finish of the broom's handle and causing a pouch to fall out. Malfoy tried to grab it, but Harry's hand was much faster.

Malfoy looked incensed that someone would snatch something away from regardless of who it belonged to. He proceeded to glare at the package in Harry's hands. Harry couldn't tell if he was more upset or jealous of what Harry was holding. "That's a broom stick Potter. You'll be in for it this time Potter; first years aren't allowed to have one."

Harry glared at the ponce in front of him. Malfoy was still trying to ruin his life by getting him expelled. But Ron was still caught up on the fact that Harry had gotten his own broom. "You got a broom, what kind?"

"It's a prerelease for the Nimbus 2001," Harry smirked, knowing he was really rubbing it in to Malfoy

"That's not even going to be released until next year," Ron's unabashed excitement was evident in his voice.

"That's what it's like to be Rich Weasley," Malfoy sneered trying to cover up his jealousy. "People give us stuff nobody else can get."

"Yeah, I bet Comet owled you that 260 you've got at home and asked you to tell them what you thought of it," Ron bit back.

Draco simmered in his own jealousy for a moment before he could come up with something biting to say. "At least I could afford it, instead of having to save up for it twig by twig."

"You mean your daddy could afford it," Harry acted bored when he said it, trying to show that he didn't think your _parents_ having money didn't make you very important.

Before Malfoy could retort, Professor Flitwick appeared at Malfoy's elbow. "Not arguing, I hope, boys?" he sounded friendly, but Harry wasn't sure that Professor Flitwick could sound intimidating with his squeaky voice.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor," Malfoy said loudly as soon as he realized there was a professor present.

"Yes, yes, that's right," Professor Flitwick grinned at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"It's a prototype Nimbus 2001." Harry answered.

"A prototype, really!?" Professor Flitwick eyed the package Harry still had over his shoulder.

Harry smiled seeing the professor's obvious excitement and the shocked look on Malfoy's face. "Professor McGonagall didn't want me to open it in front of everyone, but I could bring it by your office some time if you want to have a look at it."

Professor Flitwick licked his lips before with a pained expression he said, "No that won't be necessary." Harry was about to offer again when Flitwick smiled at him. "What I'll really want to see is the full capabilities of that broom in use and I don't think you'll disappoint me there Mr. Potter."

"No sir," Harry replied quickly, nervous that another teacher's good will might be hinged on his performance playing a game he'd never even seen before. Malfoy looked even more confused, giving Harry an idea. "But I really need to thank Malfoy here; it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I got it," Harry told the professor right before he walked past Malfoy and his stooges.

Harry had to stifle his laughter as he sensed Malfoy storming off toward the dungeons. "But it's true," He said to Ron in between chuckles. "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall I wouldn't be on the team..."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" Hermione asked angrily as she stomped up the stairs behind them.

"No," Harry replied instantly. "I think this is a result of Karma after doing what was right."

"You hold yourself above the rules and decide what's right and wrong for everyone?" Hermione put her hands on her hips imperiously.

"No, I live by a set of principles like honesty, kindness and integrity and I'm willing to follow them to the best of my abilities no matter what the cost," Harry's voice was intense with emotion.

"You didn't have to break the rules," Hermione was adamant.

"I couldn't let Malfoy bully Neville if it was within my power to do something about it."

"You could have told a teacher."

"And when would they have stopped him?" Harry looked Hermione in the eye. "Don't you use your eyes? Bullies like Malfoy know how to keep from being caught and use the rules to their advantage. The teachers were never able to stop them from bullying you did they?"

"What?" Something Harry couldn't recognize flashed in Hermione's eyes.

"Don't tell me you weren't bullied in school," Harry's voice was cold. "I've met one of them remember? You weren't complaining when I was stopping him. How does it feel to know that you stood by and did nothing while Malfoy was trying to hurt Neville?"

Ron blinked, confused about how Malfoy could have hurt Neville when Neville was already gone. But Harry's supposition was correct Hermione having experienced being bullied understood exactly how Malfoy was hurting Neville. And Hermione's eyes filled with tears as memories of teasing and harassment that no matter what she'd done no teacher or any other adult had ever been able to stop. And once the first tear fell, Hermione couldn't stop crying, so she fled up the stairs trying to distance herself from the memories of her tormentors.

"You made her cry," Ron said dumbly.

When Harry responded his voice sounded pained. "But hopefully she'll realize that justice is a universal constant, and has nothing to do with laws or rules."

Harry and Ron followed up to the Gryffindor common room much more sedately, their excitement about the broom lying forgotten like the wrapped broom underneath Harry's bed. Harry breathed a sigh of relief when a red-eyed Hermione came in a few minutes late to their first class. Harry hadn't been doing well in the class and wanted to ask Hermione if she was ok, but she seemed unwilling to meet his eyes. Harry was glad that McGonagall decided not to take off a point for being late and hoped that she was able to help Hermione when she held her after class.

Harry was distracted through most of the rest of his classes worrying about Hermione. He didn't see the bushy haired girl again until dinner. She looked better, but when he tried to sit next to her to apologize she got up and moved. Harry was so worried that he didn't pay attention to what he was eating and would have been late for his appointment on the Quidditch pitch if Professor McGonagall hadn't reminded him.

In the end Wood was late and rather than wait for him Harry decided to clear his mind by flying. The Nimbus handled much more smoothly and turned much more readily than the school broom he'd used. And it was so much faster. Compared to the last broom this one felt like he was holding on to a rocket. Harry knew he could still fly considerably faster. And the broom didn't give him that weightless free feeling that real flying did, unless he was diving. But there was something really fun about riding the broom full blast and throwing the broom into another position to change direction. After some loops, turns and a corkscrew maneuver to get a feel for how the broom steered Harry started to throw himself and the broom in radically different directions to see what he could make the broom do beyond its limits.

Harry was hanging weightless at the top of his arc, about to perform his first power dive when he sensed someone else coming onto the field. As Harry plummeted faster and faster toward the ground he saw Oliver wood lugging a large trunk over his back staring transfixed at the blur that was Harry. At the last moment Harry pulled up from his dive and parallel to the ground then swerved the broom all the way around to stop himself in a skidding motion like some kind of crazy motorcyclist.

When Wood finally came back to his senses he called Harry over to show him what was in the trunk, the four balls used in Quidditch. The first was a big red leather ball called the quaffle, three players called chasers attempt to throw the quaffle past the opposing teams keeper through one of the three hoops. Each goal was worth 10 points.

The next two balls were a little less than half the size and made out of metal. They were called bludgers and when Wood let one of them loose it flew into the air on its own and then back to attack Harry who using one of the small bats swatted it away like the annoying insect that it was and thoroughly impressing Wood who had a difficult time catching the ball when it came back.

Two players called beaters, which Harry learned were played by Fred and George on the Gryffindor team, used the bats to protect their teammates from the bludgers and send them toward the enemy players.

The final ball was golden and tiny, about the size of a walnut. It had two wings and it also flew around on its own, but unlike the bludgers this one attempted to fly away from everyone. Harry's job as the seeker was to spend the game searching for and attempting to catch this ball, which Wood explained would not be easy due to its size, maneuverability and speed. The seeker who caught the snitch would get 150 points for their team and end the game and usually winning it due to the massive amount of points catching the snitch garnered. Quidditch had no time limit, so the game didn't end until the snitch was caught.

After that explanation Harry practiced catching golf balls threw across the pitch. Harry didn't let a single one hit the ground until a half hour later when it had gotten too dark to see and they had to quit. And it looked like Wood was impressed. Well actually it looked like Wood thought he was about to conquer the world. He told Harry to be at regular team practices, which were held three times a week as they walked back to the castle.

After that the days blurred into weeks and weeks and before he knew it, it was Halloween and Harry had been at Hogwarts for two whole months. Maybe it was having Quidditch practice three times a week. Or maybe it was all the homework he had from his classes and his mother who thankfully enough didn't send him more, though she did send him a couple of extra books she thought would help. But for whatever reason time had flown by.

Harry still hadn't found a way out of the castle, but he had found a secret passage to a large room with a vaulted ceiling and straw mats on the floor. It was located under Gryffindor tower and had a large set of doors leading to an armory chock full with every type of ancient armor and weapon imaginable.

Harry started training there early in the morning before everyone else got up, because it was easier to sneak out in the morning than to sneak in and out at night and he figured he was less likely to get in trouble for getting up early than staying out late. Though he didn't give up looking for a way out of the school, there was just only so much he could do in that small of a space without wrecking it.

Though despite Harry's success, not everything went smoothly. A couple of days after their argument Harry apologized for upsetting Hermione. But she still wouldn't talk to him much. It wasn't the best apology, as he refused to apologize for his priorities, but he had been sorry he'd upset her. He tried to make it up to her by helping her with her new math and science books, but Hermione was determined to learn it without his help.

Harry did well enough in most of his classes without Hermione's help. They were getting a lot more interesting now that most of the basics had been covered and they were now practicing practical spells. But potions classes were still abysmal. Snape continued to take every opportunity he could to criticize Harry or take away house points. Consequentially it wasn't very long until Harry decided that he didn't care what the greasy jerk thought. He did his best to lay low and keep from giving the punk excuses to dock points, not that it stopped the greasy haired professor.

But Professor Snape didn't stop with just insults and docked points. He seemed absolutely determined to break into Harry's mind. At first he only did it when he was looking Harry in the eye. So grudgingly Harry stopped looking the Greasy Haired Professor in the eye. He didn't like acting submissive, but it looked like eye contact might be required for whatever technique Snape was using.

But it didn't stop there. Once Harry was no longer meeting Snape's eyes the attacks got weaker but started to come randomly. Harry had to be constantly ready with a painful memory to use to push him out. Harry found that part of the battle against Cell was the best. Nappa's fatal attack had been more painful but had been over so quickly it was hard to focus on the pain. But Harry had a memory of a pain that lasted much longer…

Everyone that was there could tell when the battle against Cell was about to end. Gohan and Cell were each trying to destroy the other with immense beam attacks. The beams had hit each other and Gohan and Cell were giving it everything they had to overpower the other's attack.

The others had tried to stop Harry when he decided that he was going to help his brother. But Harry had told them that his life was not so precious that he was willing to live it at the expense of those he loved.

Eventually everyone had jumped in to help Gohan. Everyone else had blasted Cell from behind hoping to force him to split his concentration and his power. But Harry stood right beside his brother.

Harry knew that he was no longer his brother's equal. Since Harry was only adopted, unlike Gohan, Harry didn't have their father's Saiyan blood running through his veins. So when they had trained in the time chamber, where one day outside could be a year inside, Harry had hit a plateau that at the time he couldn't surpass and Gohan had undergone the Super Saiyan transformation and received all the power that transformation granted. Then during his fight with Cell Gohan had ascended beyond even the Super Saiyan transformation and reached a level of power that had never been seen before. Gohan became the most powerful being on the planet!

But despite all that Harry was determined that if he would die that day he would die fighting by his brother's side. Even if the best he was doing was moral support he fired his own energy beam at cells attack in and did his best to help Gohan Push it back.

He couldn't stand too close. He was much weaker than Gohan and the heat radiating off his brother's attack burnt him. But Harry refused to move, even when his brother begged him too. The pain was almost unbearable, but Harry held on and pushed as hard as he could against cell's powerful attack. When it was finally over Harry had been burned terribly and nearly died.

The memory of that pain was much easier to hold on too, forcing the intruder out of his head much faster. Though twice he'd had been stubborn and stayed in Harry's mind as long as he could. Both times Snape had cried out in pain, collapsing in a heap on the floor. The potions professor had been furious but he'd been weakened by the encounter too much to make his displeasure felt. And now that Harry had a way to fight back against Snape in some way it was much easier to deal with his class. In fact it was the only thing that made potions classes bearable.

Fortunately Halloween wasn't on a Friday, so Harry didn't have potions that day. In charms everyone was excited. They were finally going to be moving objects with magic using the levitation charm. Harry wasn't worried, he'd been moving objects around however he liked since before he was six. In fact hurling ruble at Piccolo had once been one of his primary methods of attacking the alien while he was being trained at Yonzabit Heights. He'd blast at Piccolo and when the namek dodged he'd throw the debris at him while he distracted him by attacking him from a different angle. Though, it definitely didn't always work. Piccolo would try to grab him or Gohan and throw them into the paths of Harry's rocks whenever he caught on.

They'd been practicing the wand motions for a couple of days now. Harry had been full of questions about whether the motion needed to be done only with the wrist or needed the forearm. Professor Flitwick had been delighted by his questions and explained that it was easiest to learn the motions in large motions, but eventually they would be able to do most spells with just slight movements of the wrist. He also told them that many spells could be made more powerful by making slight changes to the way the wand motions were performed, but this was usually learned with either a lot of arithmetic work or experimentation. And further eventually once they'd mastered the spell they could even learn to do them without even doing the wand movements or saying the incantation of most spells out loud. But this was very difficult and wouldn't be covered until after fifth year. He then went ahead and demonstrated moving several objects including Neville's toad Trevor around the classroom using large, small and even no wand movements or even the incantation.

Today they divided into pairs. Harry got paired up with Hermione and Ron was left with Neville. Ron was disappointed by his luck in partners. Harry was hoping that he'd finally be able to get Hermione to start talking to him again now that they would be working together.

Confident that he could levitate the feather they had been given Harry invited Hermione to go first. After Hermione had insisted he go first a couple of times Harry finally gave in and confidently swished his wand over the feather and flicked. "Wingardium Leviosa," Harry incanted and the feather stayed still.

Shocked Harry used his whole arm to perform the movements more slowly and gracefully saying the incantation as clearly as he could. Still nothing. He tried snapped them out very quickly with just his wrist and nothing changed. The feather just sat there.

Harry turned to Hermione with a confused expression on his face. "Can you do it?" he asked.

Harry watched Hermione's wand as she slowly swished it over the feather and smiled as she said the incantation. The feather slowly lifted into the air and moved to where ever Hermione pointed her wand as if it was some how stuck to it with an invisible string.

"Oh, well done!" Professor Flitwick cried out. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Harry was happy for her of course, but he didn't want to forget how she'd done it. Holding his wand loosely in his hand like Hermione did and moving his wand as gently as Hermione had Harry swished it and flicked toward the feather on Parvati's desk in the row in front of them. He even smiled as he said the incantation the exact same way Hermione had. Parvati's feather didn't move either

Turning back to Hermione he watched her lower the feather back to the desk. "Go ahead," she said as she smiled, satisfied with herself.

Harry tried again concentrating as hard as he could on visualizing the feather moving. That time he thought it looked like there had been a breeze blowing over the feather. He tried again and again varying everything he could think of. He tried closing his eyes, he tried concentrating on the incantation silently, even remembering exactly how Professor Flitwick said it, but nothing happened. He tried just jabbing his wand at the feather while thinking about the motions. That scorched the feather with sparks but the feather didn't even twitch.

Finally getting a bit exasperated he turned to Hermione. "You did it, what am I doing wrong?"

Hermione told him to calm down and start over from the beginning. Many would have gotten upset at this, but Harry had been told to do so many times over the course of his training. So Harry took a few deep breaths and then nodded to Hermione to continue. They broke down each step in the spell and practiced it once before Hermione asked him to try it. She looked really confused when it didn't work.

"Are you relaxed?" she asked puzzled. He definitely looked relaxed.

Harry took three deep cleansing breaths and tried again, the feather only twitched. Hermione suggested he enunciate more clearly, and the feather didn't move. She made suggestion after suggestion until she was baffled and Harry was once again fed up.

"What's wrong?" Harry slapped his wand down on the desk. "I've been levitating bigger objects since before I was six!" Harry pointed with his first two fingers and jerked them up. Hermione gasped when the feather flew straight up and quivered right in front of Harry's eyes. Harry jerked his hand around and the feather quickly swished around in a figure eight. Then with another jerk of his wrist the feather flew across the room where it struck one of the stones in the wall, disintegrating and leaving a small scratch on the stone.

Harry turned toward Professor Flitwick, who like everyone else in the classroom was watching him with awe. "I think we're going to need another feather over here professor," Harry said abashedly now that he noticed all the other eyes on him.

"Was that you Mr. Potter?" Professor Flitwick squeaked.

"Yes," Harry replied quietly.

"And you mean to say that you've been able to successfully levitate objects without a wand since you were six?"

"Yes," Harry replied again.

"Fantastic," Flitwick squeaked.

"I'm sure it's great, but whenever I try and use my wand to do it properly nothing happens. It's like my wand is blocking my magic."

"Yes, in a way it is," Flitwick gripped his wand behind his back with two hands as he began to lecture. "Now class if you'll remember back to when we were first discussing the purpose of wand movements you'll remember that their purpose along with the incantation was to both focus your intent and mold the magic into the proper form for whatever spell you are attempting. Now can anyone tell me what Mr. Potter used to mould the magic needed to make that feather levitate if he wasn't using his wand?"

Hermione was the only one who raised her hand. "He was using his hand," Hermione answered when the Professor nodded to her.

"Close, but no Ms. Granger," Flitwick squeaked. "If he was using his hand to mold the magic, he would have needed to make similar hand motions to what's required with a wand. The hand movements only helped him focus and visualize his intent. But the answer is Mr. Potter molded the magic inside himself without the wand."

"Then why do we use wands if we can mold the magic inside ourselves without it?" a female voice Harry didn't recognize asked.

"We use wands, because it's incredibly more difficult to mold magic without the wand. Not only does your wand focus and amplify the magic, making it far less draining on the witch or wizard preventing them from suffering magical exhaustion, but it's the only way we know of to teach how to mold the magic in the necessary patterns. It's very easy for me to teach you how to swish and flick your wand, but I have no idea how I'd teach you how to describe the different way your magic has to feel to perform a illumination charm as opposed to a levitation charm. As I told this class before when you practice a spell without the wand motions you have to visualize the wand motions. You have to concentrate hard enough that you can feel what it feels like to perform the motion. This allows you to use your mind to mold the magical energy before it's sent through your wand where the wand simply focuses and amplifies. Eventually if you pay attention you may be able to feel how the magic is shaped and you'll be able to do it by just making your magic feel that way."

"So shouldn't I just be able to do it like I've always done and just focus my magic through my wand?" Harry asked as he gestured toward Parvati's feather again. This time it shot up into the air and pressed itself flat against the ceiling.

"Yes, Mr. Potter you obviously can," Flitwick chuckled. "But it will be easier for you to learn other spells if you can learn to do this one with the wand movements. And the safest way to get over this block will be to practice the wand motions and the incantation until you can do them without thinking about what you're doing or what you're trying to make happen so you don't subconsciously mold the magic before it enters your wand." Harry nodded at the Professor's words. "And that practice wouldn't be bad for the rest of you either," Flitwick addressed the whole class before dismissing them.

Harry was still frustrated when he left the class. At least he knew what was wrong now, but he was doing this particular bit of magic better than most witches and wizards alive and he still was going to have to work relentlessly to be able to do it the inferior way. It had better not interfere with him being able to do it the way he'd already been doing it. He didn't want lose the ability to do the magic without a wand. In fact he decided that he was going to talk to Professor Flitwick at lunch to make sure that wouldn't happen before he started practicing.

But as frustrated as Harry was Ron seemed to be even angrier on his behalf. Or maybe he was just upset about not being able to perform the charm himself either. "Calm down and start over from the beginning! She didn't have the slightest clue what was going wrong and she just tells you to start over from the beginning!" Ron ranted. "It's no wonder no one can stand her, she's a nightmare, honestly!"

Harry was so busy thinking about what he had learned about magic that he hadn't been paying much attention to what Ron was saying, so he didn't respond until he felt someone pushing past him. Instinctively Harry swayed to let that person past; he didn't want to knock them flat on their back. Also on instinct Harry turned to see who it was and when he did he saw tears in Hermione's eyes as she past.

"That wasn't a very nice thing to say," Harry turned to Ron. "You should apologize."

"Why? She must've noticed she's got no friends." Ron's words were biting, but he didn't look completely convinced.

Hermione didn't show up for their next class. Harry expected her to show up for lunch, but she didn't. Nor was she in any of their after noon classes. Harry had decided that he'd start looking for her if she didn't show up for dinner, but as he was entering the great hall he and Ron could hear Parvati telling Lavender that Hermione gone off to cry in the bathroom and didn't want anyone to bother her.

Harry didn't know what to do now. Should he bother her if she wanted to be left alone? In the end it was really Ron that needed to apologize. And he seemed to forget once he saw the thousands of bats flying around the floating jack-o-lanterns that had replaced all the candles in the great hall. Harry just thought that if he thanked her for trying to help him, hoping that it would make her feel better, but he didn't know if it was best not too if she wanted to be left alone.

Unable to come up with a clear solution Harry decided to stay and try to enjoy the feast. But before he could get the first bite into his mouth Professor Quirrell ran into the great hall looking terrified and slamming the great double-doors against the wall as he ran up to the head table. "Troll!" He screamed. "In the dungeon…thought you ought to know…" then the bedraggled professor fainted dead away.

Harry ate the bite of food he'd been holding in front of his mouth, closed his eyes and leaned back as the great hall broke out in pandemonium. Reaching out with his senses, Harry searched for anything with a dangerous power. And not finding anything remotely intimidating Harry was about to take a bite of something else when several purple firecrackers shot out of Dumbledore's wand as he tried to get the students' attention.

"Prefects lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately!" The headmaster's voice boomed.

It looked like this was the type of thing Percy lived for. His nasal voice could immediately be heard giving out commands. "Follow me! Stick together first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders!" Harry wondered why they weren't staying in the Great hall if the troll could be dealt with so easily by a fifth year.

"Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect." Percy was still calling out orders as they were climbing the stairs past some confused Hufflepuffs. One of them was a burnet and looked like she'd been crying in fear. That was when Harry remembered Hermione!

"Ron," Harry grabbed his friends sleeve and whispered in his ear. "Tell Percy I went to get Hermione. She wasn't in the great hall; she doesn't know about the troll."

Harry was about to vault over the rail when Ron grabbed his arm. "Are you crazy?" Ron whispered. "We can't tell Percy, he'll give us detention."

"Then cover for me," Harry smirked back and was about to leave, but Ron didn't let go. When he turned back around Ron seemed to be coming to a decision.

"I'm going with you," Ron said a little more loudly than Harry would have liked, but when he looked around the group they were with seemed to have turned a corner leaving them behind.

Harry's first response was to tell Ron that he couldn't come, but he could see that Ron seemed to feel responsible for the danger Hermione was in. And Harry couldn't detect anything powerful so he figured he could protect Ron as easily as Hermione if they actually ran into the thing. So instead he just nodded his and they quickly ran back down the stairs.

Thanks to Hermione's unwillingness to speak to him, Harry hadn't spent enough time around her to learn to recognize her energy. But with everyone heading back to their dorms there were only two energies that were by themselves and one of them didn't feel human. So after a few seconds to sort out which powers were the teachers Harry led Ron straight to Hermione.

Harry was so focused on finding Hermione that he wasn't paying attention to anything else until Ron pulled on his sleeve. "Harry, Snape just ran down the corridor behind us, I can't believe he didn't see us."

Taking a second to look around at where they were Harry realized something. "Why isn't he with the teachers?" Harry asked. Ron was about to turn back to follow Snape when Harry grabbed his arm. "We don't have time for that, we've got to find Hermione."

Chastised, Ron nodded, but his face immediately took on a far away look. "Do you smell something?"

Taking a sniff, Harry smelt it too. It smelled like his dad's dirty clothes after he'd been training and the bathroom after Gohan had eaten Lime's cooking. Following the smell down the corridor Snape had just left they saw the source of the smell. It was easily 12 feet tall and as grey as concrete. Its body was lumpy with muscles and it wore only a filthy loincloth. The monster's legs were short, but were as thick as tree trunks and its bald head looked small on its shoulders. The mountain troll didn't seem to see them and instead it peered into a doorway and after trudging through a few seconds of thought it started to step into the room dragging a large wooden club behind it.

"Hermione's in there," Harry yelled as he ran toward the door. Ron didn't even think to ask how Harry could have known that and just followed. They heard Hermione scream and a large crashing sound just before they burst into the bathroom.

"Hey pal, the lady's with us," Harry yelled at the troll and raised his ki level in the time honored signal for 'I'm going to kick you butt.' The troll however didn't seem to be able to sense it and it kept walking toward Hermione, it's club breaking sinks as it dragged on the ground. The brute was too stupid to recognize the danger it was in.

Harry was about to try and get it's attention again when Ron took care of that for him. "Oy, pea-brain!" Ron yelled as he threw a piece of broken pipe at the monster. In response the troll slowly turned its head toward Ron and Harry and looked at them stupidly. It didn't seem to even notice when the broken pipe bounced of his forehead.

"I'll get its attention; you get Hermione out of here." Harry yelled at Ron as he drew his wand and sent a spray of red and gold sparks at the troll face.

The troll howled in rage and fear and covered its face with its hands. Ron, seeing his chance, ran underneath the troll's arms to get to Hermione.

"Come on," Ron yelled as he grabbed Hermione's arm, but she wouldn't move. The terrified girl's face had gone as white as stone. And she stared transfixed at the howling troll, hypnotized with fear.

Harry smirked as he whipped his wand around throwing sinks at the walls and through a bathroom stall, hoping the noise would keep the trolls attention on him while Ron tried to coax Hermione into moving again. Spraying the Troll in the face with sparks one more time Harry began backing up slowly to draw the troll out of the bathroom so Ron and Hermione could escape. It was the wrong thing to do.

Instead of being enraged and following Harry out of the bathroom the troll seemed to be terrified and turned around to run away. And when it saw Ron and Hermione in its way standing against the wall it bellowed even louder than before and raised it's club to clear it's way through Ron, Hermione and probably the wall too.

Realizing he'd over done it, Harry ran and jumped on the troll's back wrapping his arms around the monster's neck and trying to figure out how to grapple with something three times as large as he was.

The troll's body rocked with the force of Harry's body slamming into it. It tried to grab Harry to throw him off, but couldn't manage to break Harry's hold. Harry dug his knees into the monster's back and leaned back trying to get leverage to choke the troll. Desperate the troll raised its club to swat at Harry.

Hermione was still paralyzed with fear, but Ron seeing the troll raising its club to hit Harry reacted. Drawing his wand with a swish he flicked it toward the beasts club and yelled: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

The troll's club shot straight up into the ceiling with a crack and immediately bounced back down. Unfortunately Harry had climbed up the troll's back to get better leverage to choke it. The club fell and hit Harry on the head dazing him.

Once the troll realized that it didn't have its club it reached behind its head with both. Grabbing Harry with both hands, it threw him through him through the wooden stalls.

The crunching sound of the splintering wood seemed to draw Hermione out of her reverie. She screamed in terror.

The troll took two steps bringing it to where its club lay. Its arms were so long it didn't even have to bend down to pick it up. Then without hesitating the troll lifted its club to swing it at the still screaming Hermione.

Hermione heard a loud crack as the Troll's club broke the tiles in the floor where she had been standing before Ron tackled her. It took them a moment to get untangled enough to move, but before they could the troll was raising its club over them again. Ron wrapped his arms around her and threw his body back over hers.

Hermione heard a loud crunching noise, but didn't feel anything. All she could see was Ron's chest and his arms were still wrapped around her so tight she couldn't move. She breathed in deeply, unsure if she was still alive and her nose was filled with a musky, earthy smell along with the sweet smell of candy that she assumed Ron had been eating. She wondered if Ron had given his life for her. Would this be the last time she smelled this particular scent?

She needn't have been so concerned confused Ron loosened his grip on her and looked up. Hermione looked into his face and blushed at the contact they'd just shared despite the seriousness of the situation. Turning her head she saw Harry's black loafers where he stood right next to them. Looking up she could see his black robes billowing in the breeze. His hands hung limply at his sides. But as she looked higher she saw the troll's giant wooden club resting on his shoulders instead of his head.

Hermione was about to scream when Harry's hands suddenly rose up and slapped the sides of the club shattering it to free his head that had punctured the club. The scream died in her throat. Even the stupid troll looked shocked.

"Attacking my friends was a big mistake!" Harry yelled at the troll and then began to growl loudly. The wind picked up out of nowhere making Harry's robes billow out and his hair flutter. The troll took a step back and Harry yelled and leapt at the monster, punching it hard in the stomach.

The troll was lifted into the air and hit the wall with a loud thudding noise, but Harry wasn't done. As the troll slid down the wall and began to fall Harry took two steps forward, jumped and spinning around send one of his feet out in a kick that sent the troll flying out the door.

With a squeak the troll skidded to a stop with its head sticking out the door. The sight elicited a girlish shriek from beyond the door as well as some colorful invective.

Harry glared down at the motionless troll to make sure it was truly unconscious. Whoever was outside seemed to do the same, but after a few seconds Professors McGonagall, Snape and Quirrell gingerly stepped over the troll and into the bathroom.

Professor McGonagall took in the scene of destruction and began to make clucking sounds to herself. Quirrell seemingly overwhelmed by the sight shuddered and sat down one of the only remaining toilets. Snape however ignored the destruction and looked at the room's occupants and nearly gasped in shock when he saw Potter's eyes. He'd only ever seen eyes that hard on the Dark Lord Voldemort. But almost as fast as he could blink it was gone and Harry looked just like the other children. He must have imagined it.

"What happened in here?" McGonagall demanded once she was finally able to make a coherent sentence. But once she started she didn't stop. "What were you thinking? Why weren't you all in your dormitories?" Professor McGonagall looked furious. She crossed her arms and stared down at Harry and Ron. Her lips were pressed so tight together they were white.

Harry quickly realized that Professor McGonagall's earlier apoplectic reaction wasn't from shock or awe, but from fear and now she was angry at them for being in danger. Seeing Hermione and Ron were too shocked for words after his display he also realized he was going to have to be the one to answer, which was good, because he still didn't want everyone to know about his inhuman power. "Well, I tried to distract it so that Ron and Hermione could run, but it almost hit me with its club. But Ron levitated it out of the troll's hand and hit it over the head with its club knocking it out."

Fortunately McGonagall didn't seem to notice the clatter of Ron's wand as it hit the floor. "But what were you doing here in the first place? You're lucky you weren't killed. Why weren't you all safe in your dorms like everybody else?" McGonagall's stare didn't waver, if anything it intensified.

Harry didn't know how he was going to answer that one. Inside he was seething. That insignificant pest hadn't been a danger to him! He'd been fighting things stronger than that since he was a little kid. And he was definitely skilled enough to keep any one with him safe from that thing.

But before he could get angry and tell McGonagall what he thought about her questions Hermione spoke up.

"Please, Professor McGonagall…they were looking for me."

"Ms. Granger," Professor McGonagall said aghast.

"I went looking for the troll because I-I thought I could deal with it on my own…you know, because I've read all about them. If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead now. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

It took all of Harry's will power not to fall on his butt he was so shocked. Hermione was lying to a teacher. Not only that, she was taking the fall for Harry and Ron. Hermione was the biggest stickler for following the rules he knew. He had expected Snape would give him a hug before he heard Hermione claim to have broken a rule!

"Well…in that case..." Professor McGonagall sounded as surprised as Harry was. "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head down in shame, real or feigned Harry couldn't tell.

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," Professor McGonagall sounded more normal. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

With that dismissal Hermione left quickly, only pausing to make sure the troll was still unconscious before stepping over it gingerly.

Professor McGonagall watched Hermione leave and once she was gone turned to Harry and Ron. "Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll." Ron nodded dumbly at this. He didn't know what to think about what Harry had done, but he was under no illusions that Harry had needed any luck against the troll. "You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

Ron didn't need to be told twice. With that dismissal he all but ran out the door jumping over the troll. Harry reached out his hand and caught his wand as it flew back to him, then followed at a more sedate pace jumping silently over the troll as he left.

Harry was only a few corridors away from Gryffindor tower when he found Hermione and Ron waiting for him. Hermione looked anxious. But Ron looked like he was only there because Hermione made him. Thinking about it Harry figured he was lucky he even got half way back before Hermione started to question him. Unfortunately there weren't any rooms they could hide in, so he just stopped in front of his two friends and waited for the questions to begin.

Hermione didn't seem to know where to begin. She stood on one foot and then back to the other back and first a few times biting her lip before she finally just asked, "How did you do that?"

Harry laughed. It was an awful lot of build up for such an obvious question. "I'm a martial artist," Harry explained.

"What kind of martial art can do that?" Hermione was flabbergasted. "I've gone to some self defense classes with my mum, but none of the masters I ever saw could punch someone across the room and definitely a 12 foot mountain troll!"

Ron just watched the two of them confused. He had no idea the _marital-arts_ were that powerful. But he didn't really know what they were at all, so he didn't have any reason to disbelieve what Harry said. He'd just have to ask Harry to explain it better later.

"I study my family's martial arts style," Harry wasn't really sure what to say to satisfy Hermione, but not reveal too much. He definitely couldn't talk about his dad being an alien. Gohan cold defend himself if people found out, but mum and the new baby wouldn't be able to.

"I've read a lot about all sorts of amazing things that people that study kun-fu can do. There are all sorts of schools and styles that focus on all sorts of things, like how to use someone's momentum against them or hitting nerves or pressure points and how to move so that you hit with as much speed or force as possible. But what you did was inhuman. No matter how efficiently you moved you shouldn't have been able to do that!" Hermione had started off lecturing, but by the end she was getting a little hysterical.

"Look Hermione," Harry sighed, he was going to have to tell her more than he really wanted to. "My dad's style of martial arts is derived primarily from Kame-Senin style, which was created by the Turtle Hermit, Master Roshi." Hermione nodded her head; desperate to drink in everything Harry was telling her. "The style is mostly about training your body to surpass its natural human limits."

"That's really nice sounding Harry, but by definition that's impossible, the only thing the martial arts can do is teach you how to move so that you generate as much force as possible and don't waste it in unnecessary parts of the movement." Hermione crossed her arms waiting for Harry to explain what it was he was really doing.

"Well there's a trick to it naturally," Harry tried not to be upset. He knew that most martial artist in the world had no idea how to control their energy and just used tricks of movement. And most of those that did use their ki barely had any at all. Resigning himself he knew if he wanted to keep his secrets he was going to have to at least explain it to her or she'd be so dogged trying to find out that everyone would know he was hiding something. "And I'd like to keep everyone from knowing about it and what I can do if I can. So if you want I'll explain it to you later when we can go somewhere we won't be missed or overheard; not out here in the halls were anyone could walk by including Professor McGonagall."

With that Harry started walking back to the dorms. He really didn't want McGonagall to catch him loitering in the hall after she had sent him back to the dorms. Ron and Hermione followed silently behind him.

When they got back to the common room the feast was in full swing. Food was everywhere, but Harry ignored it and headed up to his dorm. Ron and Hermione followed right behind him.

Sighing Harry turned back to face them. "Look I'm going to take a shower to get all the wood chips out of my hair. I'll explain all about it tomorrow."

"I'll probably be flossing slivers out of my teeth for days," Harry muttered to himself as he turned around and started to divest himself of his robe. Hermione blushed scarlet, but didn't leave until he started to remove his pants.


	6. Who Dares to Love Forever?

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

See Chapter 1 because I only own Harry Potter and Dragon Ball Z when I look into the Mirror of Erised.

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Chapter 6: Who Dares to Love Forever?

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The next day Hermione was antsy to get her answers. Harry had to promise her he'd find a place they could talk after dinner before she would even let them go down to breakfast. Once they were in the great hall eating breakfast she had begged to do it during lunch, but Harry told her it might take too long. She eventually gave in, but Harry was sure he'd be having the same discussion at lunch, especially after seeing how uncharacteristically distracted she was during class. She didn't even raise her hand once during transfiguration. Professor McGonagall looked worried. It was almost enough to make Harry decide to skip lunch. But Hermione would probably just spend lunch tracking him down and he'd just be hungry during class. 

Harry didn't think Hermione would have eaten anything for dinner if he hadn't insisted he wasn't going to tell her anything before he'd finished his own. As it was she mostly just moved the food around on her plate until Harry decided it was time to go.

He took Hermione and Ron to an old classroom a little ways off from the path most Gryffindors took to get back to the tower. Hermione started shifting back and forth and biting her lip as soon as they got there, but Harry decided it would be best to just explain from the beginning before she could start in on her questions.

"Please sit down Hermione," Harry gestured toward the chairs in the room as he grabbed one and turned it to face everyone. He started his lecture as soon as he sat down. "Now, Every living thing has an energy field: trees, grass, animals, even people. Now the secret to Kame-senin is learning to use that energy to make yourself stronger and faster, exceeding your body's natural limits."

"Are you talking about adrenalin?" Hermione asked. "Because if you found a way to constantly make your body produce adrenalin that's dangerous."

"No it isn't some way to control adrenalin." Harry tried to sooth his new friend. "We control the energy that every living thing has. A while back scientists were using special cameras to take pictures of that energy.

"You mean the Kirlian aura cameras?" Hermione asked, but continued on before Harry could answer. "But no one's ever been able to prove that they can control that energy. Everyone that's ever tried turned out to be a hoax."

Harry wanted to remind Hermione that she was currently attending a school for witchcraft and wizardry. But he didn't want to start an argument and he could see that Ron looked lost.

"Maybe it would be better if I showed you," Harry decided. Standing up he gestured with his hands and the chairs around him were pushed back. Hermione looked on skeptically as Harry moved his feet farther apart, crouched down and bowed his head. Harry breathed in deeply and balled his hands into fists. Then he bent his elbows and brought his fists to his sides.

Ron looked on expectantly, trying not to miss anything as Harry started to growl softly. And as he did his robes began to rustle in a nonexistent breeze. Hermione's expression began to change from skeptical to awed. Harry's growl began to get louder and his robes began to billow even more violently. Even his hair began to sway. After a couple of seconds Harry's body began to glow until Harry screamed and his body was encased in a billowing blue tinted white aura. When he was done both Ron and Hermione could feel a warm breeze blowing out from him.

Hermione's eyes had gone wide. She stood up and walked dumbly toward Harry and reached out to try and touch him. "It doesn't burn," she commented as her hand entered into the swirling white nimbus around Harry's body. "But I can feel it pushing my hand back."

"Yes," Harry replied. "You should be able to touch me if you push a little harder." Hermione did. Then after a couple of quiet seconds, realized what she was doing and jerked her hand back.

"So all of us have this energy inside us?" Ron asked.

"Yes, everything that is alive does, but usually not so much. Part of the training is to strengthen our energy, making more of it."

"Make more of it?" Hermione asked. "Some people claim that the aura is part of our soul. It shouldn't be possible to make more." Hermione seemed to have taken a complete turn around on her ideas about modern mysticism now that she'd seen Harry's aura.

"I don't know if it's a part of the soul, but once you start using the energy to strengthen yourself you start to use it up making you tiered. And when you rest it regenerates. And like muscles the more you use it the more your body or soul creates. I suspect magical energy is the same. But most people almost never use their ki, so it stays pretty much the same only getting a little stronger as they grow."

"So this is different than magical energy?" Hermione asked, her face screwed up in thought, finally showing she was getting back to her analytical self.

"I think so." Harry replied hesitantly. "My brother has tons more ki that I do, but he can't do magic at all. It's one of the things I'd hoped t learn more about, but the teachers mostly talk about the how and not the why, and I haven't found much about the nature of magical or living energies in the library yet."

At the mention of research Hermione's eyes started to sparkle in a way that Harry would have thought meant mischief on anyone else. "Look I'm trying to keep my abilities as secret as possible. I already get gawked at enough as it is and I really don't want to be some scientist or wizard's research subject. So please don't tell anyone about this or talk about it where anyone can hear you. And Hermione if you want to study about this in the library that would be great and I'd appreciate the help, but please be sure to be low key about it so no one gets suspicious."

Hermione nodded and was about to ask a question, but Ron beat her to it. "Do you reckon that this was what saved you from the killing curse?"

"I don't think so Ron. I had to train very hard to get this much power and I didn't start that until I was five years old. My energy might be able to protect me from the killing curse now, but I really don't want to test it out if you know what I mean."

Ron nodded sagely at Harry's response. Hermione however had been getting hyper during the exchange and was now bouncing back and fort between her feet and biting her lip again. "Do you think you could teach us?"

Harry should have known Hermione would be excited by the prospect of learning anything. "I don't know." Harry replied hesitantly. "I'm really not sure how all of this does or doesn't relate to magic and how it might affect you learning magic. And I'm not sure I'd be allowed to."

Hermione looked disappointed so Harry tried to discourage her with another track. "Are you really sure you'd want to. The training isn't like learning magic. You would have to do constant physical training harder than anything you've ever done before. For the first few months you'd be tiered all day every day. And when you finally started to use your ki the workouts would get even more grueling."

Hermione looked even more disappointed after that and let the conversation be steered away from Harry teaching them. But Harry could tell that there was still a spark inside Hermione that wanted to learn this new skill.

From there the conversation drifted into various aspects of Harry's power and skills. Harry demonstrated his speed by running across the room so fast that he appeared to disappear and reappear somewhere else. He even demonstrated leaving an after image. He demonstrated his strength by having Ron sit on a chair with Hermione on his lap and then lifting the chair with both of them on it. It was an hour before they finally left back to the dorm room.

Few things can bring people as close together as a shared life or death experience, but it seemed that sharing a secret was one of them. As November began to bring on winter's chill Harry found that wherever he went Ron and Hermione were almost always near by. Harry hadn't realized the toll hiding his powers from everyone had taken on him. He felt so light and free now that he had someone to confide in. Against his better judgment he even told them about his early morning training and his desire to find a way out of the castle so he could have more space to train. They insisted on seeing the secret room, but they didn't try to join him when he trained.

The quidditch season started in November and that Saturday Harry would be playing in his first game after only a few weeks of training. Harry was nervous. He'd never played a team sport before unless major league butt kicking had become a sport. And all of Wood's talk about Harry being their secret weapon made Harry feel he'd have to do very well to live up to Wood's expectations.

And Wood didn't just talk about Harry being their secret weapon. He did his best to ensure Harry stayed secret. He made the team do their best to avoid him, though he couldn't keep Fred and George away. He even made Harry keep his bright cherry colored broom wrapped up when he carried around and all but had Harry sneak onto the pitch.

But despite all of Wood's crazy plans the secret leaked out. It wasn't long before it seemed that Harry's position on the Gryffindor team was the most popular subject for discussion. One girl from Slytherin had teased him, offering to run beneath him with a mattress. Harry hadn't been able to contain himself and just laughed at her hysterically. He could fly at speeds beyond the speed of sound; of all his concerns about the game falling wasn't one of them.

For some reason it caught on and soon most of slithering and a smattering of smart-alecks from the other houses were offering to carry mattresses for him. Malfoy had been the most gracious however, as he offered to have the entire pitch padded. Fred and George apologized that because they would be playing too they wouldn't be able to catch him if he fell. It was so funny that he didn't worry much about disappointing everyone who expressed their faith in his abilities.

Now Harry was no stranger to intense studying, but being friends with Hermione was a lifesaver. With Wood scheduling extra practices nearly every night, his own personal training, and the work his mother sent him, Harry didn't think he get all his schoolwork done if it weren't for Hermione's help. He tried to return the favor by tutoring her in math, but she insisted on doing as much of it as she could on her own, though she would ask for his help when she needed it now. Harry didn't know if it was her pride or if she was just being gracious about his schedule.

Hermione had also become far less strict about the rules. Harry suspected it might have something to do with having had her life saved because people were willing to break them. She didn't stop him from looking for secret passages at night, though she didn't help; not that Harry had time to do that lately.

On the day before the quidditch match the three of them were standing out in the freezing cold courtyard during their break. To stay warm Hermione had conjured a bright blue flame that she kept in a glass jar. Harry was reading a book titled _The Arte of War & Daring Duel_.

The book discussed the evolution of magical combat from the use of massively powerful and destructive spells to curses and the modern dueling system. It sounded like a lot of propaganda to Harry. When Harry had mentioned that to Hermione, she'd been affronted that he would accuse any book of containing anything less than the absolute truth.

The book constantly praised the elegance and precision of modern dueling technique and all of its advantages, but never mentioned the obvious, to Harry at least, advantages of conjuring massive balls of fire and rock or any of the other incredible feats the book mentioned had been used historically. The book seemed to only grudgingly mention in passing that the old elemental spells required special spells to block them depending on the attack. Then it went on to praise the fact that curses could be blocked with deft wand motions that allowed you to keep your wand pointed at your opponent. The book discussed dueling techniques in depth and even had a few useful curses in it, but it didn't mention how to do even one of the old spells.

The main thing the book had against the old spells was that they were exhausting and claimed that it was the invention of curses that allowed weaker witches and wizards to defend themselves. It constantly mentioned how magically draining the older methods were and mentioned a couple wizards that had died from magical exhaustion after using them to destroy their enemies and one wizard that had unleashed one of the spells right next to himself destroying both himself and the witches attacking his family.

This was the first time Harry had heard anyone mention that Magical exhaustion could be fatal. But it certainly explained why Professor Flitwick had seemed so adamant about avoiding magical exhaustion during that first levitation class.

Hermione however wasn't particularly happy about Harry's reading habits. "Why do you always read about fighting? Violence never solved anything."

"Oh really?" Harry asked angrily. "Do you think you could have convinced Vold…eh you-know-who or Grindlewald to stop killing people or trying to take over the world by talking to them?" When Hermione couldn't answer Harry continued. "Hermione there are people in this world that words alone won't stop. And when that happens violence becomes the only answer."

"Well you can't go beating up everyone you don't like," Hermione replied defensively

"Just because a person can do something, doesn't mean that they will. I haven't beaten up Malfoy or Professor Snape yet have I? You saw what I did to the troll, what do you think I could do to Malfoy? And I didn't even kill the troll."

Hermione made a noise in her throat, but didn't seem to know what to say for a moment. "But why do you need to keep getting stronger. You're already strong enough."

"Hermione," Harry answered. "Before I came here I was one of the weakest people I knew. Most of the evil people I've ever met were stronger than me at the time. I just don't want to lose anyone else I love, because I didn't have the power to protect them." Harry's voice was so full of emotion that Hermione couldn't say anything.

Professor Snape wasn't so moved. "And just what are you three doing out here in the cold?" The three of them had been so involved in their conversation that they hadn't sensed Snape's approach. Luckily Snape had been too distracted by their conversation to notice the blue fire burning in the jar behind them. It was certainly an infraction of the rules.

"Having a philosophical debate," Hermione replied slightly heatedly. Ron and Harry looked at Hermione in shock that she'd speak to a professor that way. She seemed to be shocked that she'd done it too and now looked abashed.

Snape however didn't take it with as much good humor. Glaring at them his eyes raked them over before locking on Harry's book. "What's that you've got there, Potter?"

"Just a book sir," Harry replied not wanting to let Snape know what he was reading about.

"Lets see it then," Snape said holding out his hand.

"It's my book professor." Harry said defiantly.

"Five points for cheek Potter. Now show me the book." Snape's eyes dared Harry to let him take any more points.

Harry showed him the book and Snape immediately snatched it out of his hands and turned around. "And detention with me tomorrow morning for stealing a book out of the restricted section," Snape called as he limped away.

"It's my book not the library's," Harry yelled back. But Snape didn't even look back. So he didn't see Harry seething with his fists clenched and his feet rooted in the ground as his robes billowed around him.

Harry was upset the rest of the day. Harry couldn't concentrate on his charms homework that evening. Hermione was helping them with it. Though Ron would have been much happier if she'd let him copy hers, but she wouldn't. How would they learn if she let them do that?

It just galled Harry that a teacher could take one of his own books, he'd bought it from flourish and blots when his mother had sent him for extra books, and give him detention claiming he'd stolen it from the library. Harry had just about worked himself up enough to go find Snape and give piece of his mind when Professor McGonagall stormed into the common room.

"Mr. Potter! What is this I hear about you stealing a book out of the restricted section? And getting detention the day before a quidditch match!" McGonagall stared at Harry with her arms crossed in front of her, reminding Harry once again of his mother.

But she wasn't his mother, and Harry was already angry about the situation. "It was my book and not the library's." Harry growled back.

McGonagall lifted her eyes in shock. "Then why didn't you tell him that?"

Harry was taking a deep breath to yell at his head of house when Ron interrupted him. "But he did professor."

"Please Professor," Hermione pleaded. "He told Professor Snape twice."

"Very well, we'll see about this. Come with me Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall turned and started to stalk out of the room.

Harry followed her, his anger simmering until they reached the staff room. Professor McGonagall went in first. And when Harry stepped in behind her he could see Professor Snape had one leg on a stool with his robe pulled back showing mangled flesh below the knee. Filch was handing him bandages. "Mangey beast," Snape complained. "How are you supposed to keep your eyes on all three heads at once?"

Harry couldn't see Professor McGonagall trying to use hand signals to tell Snape to be quiet. And apparently neither did Snape. Harry however couldn't help himself. Were all wizards this weak? Against a human you had to watch two arms and two legs and their head, and he had problems with just three heads? Harry snickered.

Snape's head jerked to the side and his face contorted in rage. "Potter!" he screamed at the top of his lungs. And when Harry didn't so much as flinch he continued. "Get out! Get out!"

Snape was reaching for his wand when McGonagall stepped forward and called his name sternly. "Severus Snape, young Mr. Potter is with me."

Snape put his wand away and glared daggers and McGonagall. McGonagall stared back at him like he was a naughty child, but Snape didn't relent. Harry just stood there and watched with all the enthusiasm of a spectator at a sports match. He was half tempted to start cheering for his team when Professor McGonagall spoke up.

"Mr. Potter tells me that the book you confiscated was not one of the library's."

"So he claims," Snape sneered.

"And I presume you had a look at it?" McGonagall stated smoothly, though she didn't look happy about Professor Snape's attitude.

Harry thought this was better than the staring match.

"It was titled the Art of War, It obviously belonged in the restricted section." Snape replied.

Professor McGonagall quirked an eyebrow. "I was not asking about the books content, but whether or not it belonged to the library."

"What would a first year be doing with a book like that if he didn't steal it from the restricted section?" Snape replied.

McGonagall just sighed at this. "Where is the book?" she asked.

Snape limped a couple of steps toward one of the shelves and picked it up, showing its cover to her.

"Alright, let me see it then," McGonagall took a step forward and reached out her hand. Snape hesitated. "That wasn't a request Severus," McGonagall voice was steely.

Snape looked like he was about to refuse. Harry almost hoped that he would, just so he could see what McGonagall would do. But he handed it over.

Professor McGonagall checked the inside flaps and didn't find the pocket, the Library's card or the list of students that had checked the book out. Nor was there the distinctive stamp that all of Hogwarts' library books received. "It doesn't appear to be one of ours," she declared.

"Here is your book Mr. Potter," McGonagall seemed to be making a dignified show of handing it to him. "You will not be required to attend detention tomorrow as it appears Professor Snape was mistaken. You may go now."

But Harry didn't move. "What about the points?" Harry asked.

"I didn't see any points taken for the supposed theft of a restricted book," McGonagall looked at Harry sternly.

"When I said the book was mine he took five points for cheek," Harry replied through gritted teeth.

"He refused to show me the book," Snape sneered. "The points stay regardless."

"Next time a Professor asks to see one of your books you will respect their authority and show it to them," McGonagall replied.

Harry knew he wouldn't get anywhere so he left when he was dismissed this time. He had mixed emotions about the encounter, but when he could hear Snape's yelling when he closed the door he couldn't help but smile and jogged back to the tower.

He'd been excited to tell Ron and Hermione about the confrontation between Professor Snape and McGonagall but got distracted when he got to the part about seeing Snape's lacerated leg.

"What could have cut his leg up so badly?" Hermione asked.

"The three headed dog," Harry replied. "He was complaining about not being able to keep track of all of its heads.

Hermione had been about to retort until Harry had continued. Then she looked surprised that Snape had admitted it.

"That must have been where he was going when we passed him on Halloween." Ron said excitedly.

"You passed a professor and didn't tell him where I was?" Hermione asked.

"We couldn't risk him forcing us to go back and leave you there," Harry responded.

"Harry," Hermione started to speak in her lecturing tone. "Professor Snape may not be very nice, but surely he wouldn't have left a student in danger."

"Are you willing to bet your life on that?" Harry responded.

"Harry, you have to trust the professors."

"I trust the other professors," Harry responded. "They've never attacked me or tried to steal from me."

"Do you reckon he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding?" Ron asked trying to deflect the argument.

It was the wrong thing to say. "Snape would never try and steal something if Professor Dumbledore was guarding it."

"Their teachers not saints, Hermione," Ron replied.

"No, Hermione's right" Harry replied. "Bullies like Snape don't usually have the guts to go against people that they know are stronger than them."

Hermione had started to smile when Harry had first spoken, but the look soured. That hadn't been what she'd meant at all.

"What if whatever's down there would make him more powerful than Dumbledore," Ron seemed to be thinking out loud. "He already had the troll for a distraction."

"You don't think he let the troll in as a distraction, do you?" Harry asked back.

Hermione all but exploded. "Maybe he realized someone had let it in as a distraction and went to check on it."

"She has a point there," Harry admitted. Ron didn't seem to want to admit it, but agreed. "But what's down there that someone could want it so badly?"

"It must be really important. We already know that whoever is after it is willing to set a troll loose in a school filled with children." Ron responded.

"But if we knew what it was, we might be able to tell who was after it." Harry said with finality.

That mystery and all the others that went along with it tumbled around in Harry's head as he went to sleep. They had discussed the possibilities the rest of the night, but since all they really knew or suspected was a limit of how big it could be to fit in the bag Hagrid had taken out of Gringotts. They just didn't have enough information to figure it out. And so it took Harry a while to drift restlessly off into sleep.

The next day dawned bright and early; too early for Harry, who skipped his normal workout. He didn't want to be tired for the match and he hadn't slept as well as he would have liked. He didn't eat much when he got to breakfast, which for him meant he only ate enough for one person. Hermione was torn between convincing him to eat like he usually did and satisfaction that he'd finally started eating like a normal person.

By eleven o'clock nearly the entirety of the Hogwarts population and a fair amount of their families were packed into the stands around the pitch. This was the first quidditch game the boy-who-lived was in after all. No one wanted to miss it.

Hermione and Ron met up with Dean, Seamus and Neville at the top of one of the stands. As a surprise for Harry they'd made a banner out of some ruined sheets that read: Potter for President. Dean had painted a lion on it and Hermione had charmed it to change colors.

They were setting up the banner when Hagrid came tromping up to them. "Look a' the scallywag I caught tryin' to sneak into the Gryffindor changin' room. This here is Sirius Black, Harry's Godfather." Hagrid gestured to a handsome looking man with a roguish face. "An' this here is Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger, you won' often find Harry with ou' them around."

"Pleased to meet you," Sirius grinned widely. "Now Ron you wouldn't be Arthur Weasley's boy would you?"

"Yes sir," Ron replied sullenly. He was tired of being somebody's brother or Arthur's son. But every time he met someone, they always saw him as someone's brother or son.

"Hey," Sirius rebuffed. "None of this sir business, I'm just Sirius. But I should have known. I thought I recognized you're mum at Madam Malkin's that day, but I hadn't seen her since the war.

"When did you see mum at Madam Malkins?" Ron asked, not sure where this was going

"When we was takin' Harry to get his school things o'course." Hagrid replied.

"That's when Harry saw you," Sirius smirked. "I was telling Harry about how I met his dad on the Hogwarts Express when he suddenly looked at the door. So I look over and a second later the door opens and in steps you're little sister with your mum dragging the rest of you behind. It was like Harry could tell she was coming." Sirius laughed at the expression on Ron's face

"Well I'm sure he just heard them or something," Hermione interrupted before Sirius could continue to wind Ron up. "He seems to always know when someone is coming. I don't know quite how he does it." Now that she thought about it Hermione wondered if it might have something to do with his crazy martial arts training.

You know you're dad caught me with my enchanted motorcycle," Sirius continued. "He scared the heck out of me, I thought I was in serious trouble. I'm just glad he wasn't mad at me."

"But my dad never gets mad," Ron replied not quite believing Sirius.

"Oh, it's not easy to make your dad angry, but during the war a couple of You-know-who's death eaters found out how. And then they learned why hurting people your dad cared about is a bad idea. That's why I was worried when you're dad caught me with my enchanted motorbike. He took that job with the ministry so he could protect muggles from the types of witches and wizards we fought during the war. But in the end we ended up taking it apart and talking about his family and how I enchanted my bike to fly. Then he made me put a muggle repelling charm and an invisibility booster on it."

"You're the one that showed my dad how to make a car fly?" Ron asked surprised.

While Sirius was getting to know Harry's friends Harry had already finished changing into his bright red quidditch robes and was waiting with the rest of the team to head out onto the pitch. Harry didn't think he'd been this nervous since his first battle. He reminded himself that no one was going to die today it was just a game. But he wasn't worried about dieing; he was worried about letting everyone down. This was the first time he'd put his new skills to the test. He'd come a long way since the six-year-old boy that had been asked to fight to help save the world. But now matter what he did, he felt as nervous as he did back then.

"Okay, men," Wood's voice brought Harry out of his reverie.

"And women," Angelina Johnson, one of their chasers added indignantly.

"And women," Wood nodded. "This is it."

"The big one," Fred said.

"The one we've all been waiting for," George continued.

"We know Oliver's speech by heart," Fred told Harry, "we were on the team last year."

"Shut up, you two," Wood, but didn't sound too upset at their ribbing. "This is the best team Gryffindor's had in years. We're going to win. I know it." But the effect of his inspiring statements was ruined by the glare he gave everyone, daring them to prove him wrong. Then suddenly it was gone.

"Right. It's time. Good luck, all of you." And with that Wood walked out onto the pitch with his broom carried over his shoulder.

Harry followed Fred and George onto the field toward the center where Madam Hooch stood holding her broom. She would be the referee for this match. Harry tried to ignore the tumultuous cheering as he walked.

"Now I want a nice fair game," Madam Hooch said as soon as they were all gathered around her. But she seemed to be looking at the Slytherin team captain, Marcus Flint. He was big, even for a sixth year. Where Crabbe and Goyle looked like gorillas, Flint somehow resembled the troll he'd faced in the girl's bathroom. A brute that liked to cheat and throw his considerable weight around, that was more along the lines of what Harry was used to.

Harry smirked at Flint, but a flashing banner caught his eye. Underneath it he saw Hagrid and Sirius next to Ron and Hermione and his smile grew even bigger. He winked at them, and then when Madam Hooch blew his whistle he hovered slowly into the air when everyone kicked off. Then he leaned back bringing the nose of his broom to point up he shot forward at maximum speed straight through the middle of the Slytherin team.

Fred and George's friend Lee Jordan began the commentary. "And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor who flies straight through the gap Potter's insane flying just made in the Slytherin formation…what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too…"

"JORDAN!" Professor McGonagall sat right next to him to keep him in line.

"Sorry, Professor…And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve…back to Johnson and score! The Slytherins didn't know what hit them that time."

The Gryffindor stands erupted in cheers while the Slytherins just moaned.

Harry got to the top of his climb well ahead of the Slytherin seeker, Terence Higgs. As soon as he was at his desired altitude he zipped across the field looking down for any sign of the snitch. The move seemed to confuse Higgs, who just stopped to watch for a moment before he started to circle the pitch at a more sedate pace.

Harry alternated between zipping back and forth across the filed to lazily circling it like his Slytherin counterpart was doing. He kept his eyes open, unblinking the entire time just like Piccolo had taught him so long ago.

Wood's game plan called for Harry to stay up out of the way looking for the snitch, which would hopefully keep him from being a target for bludgers or fouls. Harry wasn't worried. He'd offered to fly in the thick of it to take some of the pressure off the chasers, but Wood wouldn't hear of it. And Harry had pushed his luck trying to convince Wood that he would still be able to spot the snitch when he was flying at high speeds. He'd had to demonstrate three times before Wood relented and let him search for the snitch his own way.

So here Harry was floating high above the action, bored. He'd flown a couple of huge high-speed loop-the-loops and a corkscrew to show his support when the team scored and to give him some new angles to search from. So far though wherever the snitch was hiding, it was doing a good job of avoiding him. He'd caught a glimpse of gold once, but it had turned out to be the reflection from George's watch. And later a bludgers came barreling at him, but he'd avoided it easily and Fred came up chasing it asking if Harry was alright before belting the bludgers back toward Flint.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee Jordan called out, "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the…wait a moment…was that the Snitch?"

Harry had seen it too. The flash of gold had almost hit Pucey in the face, which was probably why he dropped the Quaffle. Higgs had seen it too, but it didn't matter. Due to Harry's broom's superior speed and Harry's absolute lack of fear Harry was quickly leaving the Slytherin seeker behind.

The game seemed to stop for everyone else. The seekers didn't even dive to catch the Quaffle as they watched Harry weave through them so fast that he had to throw himself all over his broom to avoid them. Some would later say that it had been a life changing experience seeing Harry having to forcefully over-steer his broom just to keep from hitting them at the speed he was going.

Harry had narrowed his concentration down to just the snitch as he avoided the last player between him and it. He was almost on top of it when something hit him. He didn't see what he'd hit until leaned back to try and reach the snitch as he'd passed it. Flint had been sent of spinning out of control. Harry felt the flapping of the snitches wings against his finger for a moment as he shot past it, but he had been knocked too far off course and it was just barely out of his reach.

Looking forward Harry pulled the top of his broom up and kicked the bottom down to reverse himself, but by the time he was facing back the snitch was gone.

The crowd let out a collective gasp and all but went silent. Even Lee Jordan just sat with his mouth open. Everyone seemed to be shocked silent except for Hermione who was yelling: "FMA you moron!"

"What?" Ron, Hagrid and Sirius asked together.

"It means that the Force of impact will be equal to how massive, or heavy the object or person is times how fast their moving." Dean, who, like Hermione had a muggle education explained.

"So if Flint was three times bigger than Harry," Hermione continued the explanation, "it wouldn't matter because Harry was going ten times as fast."

"So Flint was lucky Harry didn't fly through him like he was made of tissue paper at the speed he was going." Dean smirked.

Ron was slightly dizzy not from the explanation but from looking back and forth between Dean and Hermione, who sat on either side of him.

Flint had complained to Madam Hooch claiming Harry had magicked him to knock him out of the way. But by the time everyone on Hermione's row had finished listening to the explanation Hooch had told Flint an even more dumbed down version of the same thing and awarded Gryffindor a penalty shot for Flint's fouling Harry.

Lee Jordan was ecstatic about the turn of events. "So, maybe that will teach him to think twice before he cheats next time!"

"Jordan!" Professor McGonagall growled.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul backfired…"

"Jordan, I'm warning you…"

"All right, all right…Flint nearly got killed when he flew in front of the Gryffindor seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

Harry lazily ducked his head to avoid a bludgers when his broom suddenly lurched. He'd been flying it for nearly two months and it had never done something like that. It was only a prototype, but it shouldn't be moving like that on its own, should it?

The broom lurched again and again. It seemed to be trying to buck him off. That was when Harry knew that it wasn't the broom. The motions were too regular and too calculated to throw him off to be accidental. He tried to turn around and get Wood to call a time out when he found out that he had no control of the broom. It started zigzagging through the air and randomly swishing side to side to throw him off. Harry tried to manhandle the broom, thinking that if someone had somehow taken over steering the broom he could physically throw it in the direction he wanted. But it didn't work whatever had the broom had it in a vice like grip I the air. Harry couldn't budge it.

Due to the crazy stunt flying Harry had been doing the whole game it took everyone a moment to realize that Harry wasn't showing off his flying skills, but had lost control of his broom. Flint had just scored another point for Slytherin when everyone in the stands was suddenly pointing at Harry in shock. His broom was spinning and then gave a massive jerk to throw him off.

Harry was hanging on with one hand. It looked considerably scarier to everyone else than it did for Harry, who was lazily gripping the handle knowing that take a lot more than that to break his grip.

Down in the stands Sirius wasn't so calm. "That git told me that broom worked just as good as a production model. It was supposed to just be too fast!"

"Then sommat must ah interfered with it," Hagrid replied, looking worriedly through his binoculars.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Seamus whispered.

"No," Sirius replied. "It would take a lot more than a jolt to interfere with a fully functional broom. It would take powerful magic."

"And dark magic that," Hagrid added lowering his binoculars.

Hermione grabbed them and immediately started searching the crowd. "What are you doing?" Ron asked nervously.

His bushy haired friend didn't answer immediately. "I knew it," she growled. "Look at Snape," she commanded, thrusting the binoculars in Ron's face.

When everything came into focus Ron could see Snape sitting straight across from them. He was staring at Harry and his lips were moving nonstop.

"He's jinxing the broom," Hermione said.

"What should we do?" Ron was ashen.

"Leave it to me." Hermione said and immediately disappeared from view.

Not sure what he could do, Ron took the binoculars and pointed them at Harry. His broom was shaking rapidly and Harry was hanging from it upside down. Ron's brothers had tried to fly up to Harry to get him of the wild broom, but every time they did the broom went higher until they gave up and started circling below him, apparently to catch him if he fell. In the confusion Flint grabbed the Quaffle and scored five more times before anyone noticed what he was doing and stopped him.

Hermione ran as fast as she could through the stands heedless of anyone else. She didn't even apologize to Professor Quirell when she knocked him over onto the row in front of him, nearly on top of Snape. She drew her wand and began to mutter a few choice words when she looked up and saw that she was too late. Harry was plummeting head first toward the ground!

Fred and George were circling below Harry trying to be there to catch him if he fell. But they'd never expected Harry to scrunch up on his broom, plant his feet and actually leap off. He jumped so far to the side that neither of them could catch him. The broom gave a few more jerks before it started to fall straight down.

They dived right after him but they were tool late. They could tell Harry was going to hit the ground before they got to him. Fred managed to catch Harry's broom.

Harry's body rolled when he hit the ground. And to everyone's surprise after a couple of yards he pushed himself onto his feet and continued to skid to a stop; his feet digging a deep furrow into the ground. His quidditch robes were now grass stained green and covered in dirt, but Harry looked fine.

Smiling to the silent crowd Harry waved his right hand over his head, the hand that held the snitch! "Harry Potter managed to catch the snitch on the way down!" Lee Jordan yelled

"Gryffindor wins!" Finally the crowd got over its shock and erupted in cheers. "180 to 60," Jordan called out.

The crowd was hysterical, and when the stopped cheering Harry was all they could talk about. He started the game with a move they'd never seen before that directly let to Gryffindor scoring and he'd ended it with something even more spectacular. But Harry didn't hear any of it, because before even the team had come to their senses Sirius had dragged Harry to the hospital wing.

Harry tried to argue but Sirius wouldn't budge and then Hagrid, Hermione and Ron had shown up and sided with Sirius. So he was trapped in the Hospital wing until Flint distracted the matron, Madam Pomphry enough for him to escape. Apparently Flint had been more hurt when Harry ran into him than he let on. He'd glared at Harry when he came in and Harry just smirked back at him. He arrived after Sirius left, because he'd spent the last twenty minutes arguing with whoever would listen that Harry hadn't been on his broom when he caught the snitch, so it shouldn't count and that he must have cheated and used magic to keep from dieing in that fall.

Harry walked back toward Hagrid's hut to meet with Ron & Hermione who Hagrid had offered tea while they waited for Harry to get out. That had let Harry spend some time getting to know Sirius and to ask about secret passages out of the castle. Sirius had known about seven, but was sure that Filch knew some of them.

Sirius had then wanted to know what mischief he had gotten in to. He wasn't sure what he wanted but told him a mostly unedited version of what had happened with the troll. He still had Ron knocking the troll out in the end. Sirius had been impressed and regaled him with a couple tales of daring pranks that he and his dad and a couple of other friends had done. It was obvious that for some reason Sirius was on the outs with this Wormtail person. And as a parting gift when he left Harry in the hospital wing, though he had at least tried to argue Madam Pomfrey out of keeping him there over night, he'd told Harry about a map of the entire school that was probably still in Filch's office.

Harry walked in on an awkward moment when he got to Hagrid's hut. They'd quickly asked him why had taken him so long. So he told them about the magical bruise reducing poultice that Madam Pomfrey had placed all the way from his shoulders to his butt. He was glad Flint hadn't arrived while she was applying that.

Then he'd complained about how tyrannical Madam Pomfrey was trying to keep him overnight for a bruise. Hermione had wanted to argue that after Harry's fall he could have other injuries, but Hagrid had agreed with them and started talking about some of his _minor_ injuries from tending animals and how Madam Pomfrey had dealt with them. It had been an interesting conversation. Harry learned a lot about what magical healing could do and he talked about some of the injuries he'd received when training.

Ron and Hermione didn't seem to enjoy the conversation as much. They had both gone white. Either they didn't agree with Hagrid and Harry on what constituted a minor injury or they were disturbed by the rate Harry had eaten the generally considered inedible rock cakes Hagrid had provided them.

It wasn't until dinnertime that they left Hagrids and Ron and Hermione told him about what had happened before he'd arrived. How they had seen Snape jinx Harry's broom and more importantly their clue Hagrid had let slip about what the three headed dog, named fluffy was guarding: Nicholas Flamel.

* * *

Harry was surprised when Hermione hadn't wanted to go to the library that night. Instead she'd just scheduled when they'd be able to search and planned how they could most effectively go about doing it. 

The next day after dinner she had them searching the library for anything that might mention Nicholas Flamel. She sent Harry to look through books on recent achievements in magic and Ron to look through books on recent events. But they couldn't find anything, even after a couple of weeks of skimming through books whenever they had a free moment.

After two weeks, Harry was starting to get discouraged. If only wizards had something like computers and the Internet. He'd probably be able to find something about Nicholas Flamel that would at least tell him where to look. He was starting to think they were looking in the wrong place. And he was standing next to the rope barrier that separated him from the section he was suspicious had what he needed. After all, whatever they were looking for would have to be a powerful artifact if Snape wanted to steal it from Dumbledore. The more he thought about it the more he was sure that whatever they were looking for would be in the restricted section.

"What are you looking for boy?" Madam Pince the library's stern mistress asked Harry.

"I'm looking for a book on the various political systems and the major differences in the laws between the various magical governments." Harry decided to tell her about the most tame and obvious thing that he'd planned on looking up before the end of the year.

"You won't find that over here," Madam Pince said suspiciously.

Harry did his best to look abashed. "One of my professor's said something I was doing would cause magical exhaustion, so I'm looking for something to tell me what magical exhaustion is, what causes it, how to avoid it and really the nature of magical energy in the body, that kind of stuff."

"Did this professor tell you what book to look at?" Madam Pince asked suspiciously.

"Well I wanted to find out which book had the best information about it, especially the nature of what magical energy is and how it affects the body, normally and when depleted, before talking to Professor Flitwick about it."

In response Madam Pince just looked him up and down as if measuring him up and then walked away.

"We're supposed to be looking for Nicholas Flamel, not our own research projects." Hermione whispered angrily in Harry's ear.

"Yes, but I couldn't tell her than now could I?" Harry whispered back.

"Then why did you ask her for help?" Hermione hissed.

"She thought I was trying to sneak into the restricted section, I had to say something."

Before Hermione could reply Madam Pince started walking back toward them with a book in one hand and a piece of parchment in the other. "This book explains the formation of the International Confederation of Wizards and most of the magical governments and the biggest differences in their laws. For a more practical listing of legal differences you'll want to buy a tour guide at a book shop." Madam Pince handed Harry the piece of parchment she was carrying. "That book is the best description of how magical energies work in the body, but you'll have to have one of your professors sign for it if you want to read it."

Without another word or relinquishing the book in her arms the stern librarian turned around and began to walk away. Harry didn't know what to make of it until she turned around. "Are you going to check it out or not, Mr. Potter?"

"Oh, yes ma'am," Harry answered and left Hermione before she could continue to berate him.

Once he'd checked out the book he stood at the librarian's desk not sure what to do. "Was there anything else you needed, Mr. Potter?" she asked.

"No," Harry shook his head, unable to think up an excuse to stay and continue his illicit search.

"Then you may go."

Recognizing the dismissal and not wanting to get caught by the stern librarian Harry left the Library. Hermione was going to be mad.

* * *

Harry had been right about Hermione. He'd spent the last two hours reading his new book about the founding of the various magical governments. He had intended to only skim through it and read it later, but he'd gotten too interested in it to take a nap like he'd planned. Then just at curfew Hermione came stomping in. Harry found Hermione's ability to leave the Library and arrive exactly at curfew mildly frightening. 

"So we still couldn't find anything?" Harry asked when Hermione stomped up to the chair he was sitting in.

"No we didn't," Hermione huffed. "No thanks to you."

"Madam Pince was already suspicious when she found me by the restricted section, I couldn't stay or she might have caught us."

"So that's why you were skulking around there, you wanted an excuse to leave." Hermione pointed at him accusingly.

"No, that's not it at all, she just caught me while I was standing there thinking." Harry waved his hands in front of himself.

"Then why were you there in the first place?" Hermione's tone made it clear she didn't believe him.

"I was trying to think of other places we might be able to find Flamel."

"Oh, and you think it'll be in the restricted section do you?" Hermione seemed to think that was awfully convenient.

"Where else would you put information about a powerful magical object that people would be willing to try and steal from a wizard as powerful as Dumbledore?" Harry asked.

"Well even if it is, we can't go in there, so we'll have to find it somewhere else." That seemed to be as close as Hermione was going to come to agreeing with him.

"Don't worry, I've got a plan," Harry smirked.

"One that'll get us into all sorts of trouble no doubt," Hermione muttered as she turned around and left. "Tell me about it in the morning," she called as she walked up the stairs to the girl's dormitories.

"I think she's really mad at you mate," Ron spoke up for the first time.

"I know," Harry replied softly.

Harry spent the rest of the night reading his new library book until the common room was finally empty. He'd had to beg off playing chess with Ron, who had then convinced two upperclassmen to play with him. They lost just like everyone else.

Once Harry was sure no one would come down he closed his library book and made himself invisible. It was another talent he'd learned in the forests of Yonzabit Heights. It had worked fairly well against predators if they didn't spend the time trying to sniff him out, but Piccolo was always able to sense where he was.

Moving quickly and silently Harry left through the portrait hole and down the winding corridors and stairways toward the library. He smirked widely as he floated several feet over Mrs. Norris. The cat seemed to smell something, but never even bothered to look up.

Once in the library Harry glided over the ropes that cordoned off the restricted section and began to look around. He didn't have a lamp, so he created a small ball of energy above his hand to give him light. It didn't help much. The books all looked old and many of the ones that had titles were written in characters he couldn't recognize. Still others were cracked and falling apart with their lettering peeling or already peeled off. One of them even had what appeared to be a blood stain on it obscuring the title.

Not sure where to start Harry picked up a black one with silver letting and ignored the strange whispering sounds that seemed to be coming from the books themselves. It had to be his nerves, or so he thought. But when he opened the book he'd selected it let out a wailing scream.

Harry slammed the book shut immediately, but it didn't stop even when he put it back on the shelf. Sensing someone coming Harry doused his light and became invisible once again. He silently leapt over Filch's head to get out of the library and ran.

He didn't pay attention to where he ran as long as it took him away from Filch's energy. This had two unforeseen consequences. First, Harry was lost. And second, Harry had concentrated so hard on avoiding Filch that he had nearly plowed through Snape. Filch had been using his knowledge of the secret passages to good affect an in his brief flight it seemed that Filch was always just one step behind him. Now it seemed Harry knew why. Filch was looking for Snape. In retrospect Harry realized he'd made a rooky mistake. He hoped Mr. Piccolo didn't find out.

Unfortunately the ceilings weren't vaulted in this area of the castle so he couldn't just fly up to the ceiling and when Filch came panting out from behind a tapestry Harry had to move quickly before either of the two men bumped into him.

"You asked me to come directly to you, Professor, if anyone was wandering around at night, and somebody's been in the library Restricted Section." Harry heard Filch say as he vaulted back over Snape and took off down the hall to hide around a corner.

"The Restricted Section? Well, they can't be far, we'll catch them." Harry heard Snape's voice begin to move toward him. Desperately he looked for some place to hide and seeing an open door next to a solitary suit of armor Harry dove into the room as silently as he could before Snape and Filch could catch up to him.

Harry stood in the corner and waited for the voices to pass. Breathing easier once he could no longer hear their voices Harry finally took a good look at the room he'd chosen to hide in. It appeared to be an unused classroom with desks and chairs stacked up against one of the walls. He'd seen several rooms like this through out the castle, but what stood out about this room was what was standing propped up against the wall like some one had left it here to keep it out of the way. It was a beautiful full length mirror that reached nearly to the ceiling. It had a gold frame. And on the top of it was inscribed: Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi.

Harry couldn't see anything but the room's reflection in the mirror until he stood right in front of it. Then suddenly the mirror showed the room crowded with several people. Harry was about to jump away from where the mirror revealed his reflection when he suddenly recognized one of the people in the mirror. Whirling around Harry stared at the spot where his father had been standing, but no one was there. Just like Harry should have known there wasn't. He could recognize his dad's energy anywhere and it wasn't in this room, or even on this planet. Nor could Harry sense anyone else in the room.

He looked at the mirror to make sure he wasn't making a mistake and sure enough there was his dad wearing his red uniform smiling happily at Harry just like he had done when he was still alive. One of his dad's arms was resting on his mum's shoulder. She looked very pregnant, but Harry knew she wasn't here either. He could sense her. Her energy was very close to Gohan's on the other side of the world. But the mirror showed Gohan standing next to their mum. And behind them stood Harry's grandpa and Mr. Piccolo and Krillen and Yamcha and most of his dad's friends including Bulma holding baby trunks.

They were all standing behind Harry's own reflection on his right. On the other side he could see several people he didn't know. In the front was a woman with beautiful red hair and almost super-saiyan green eyes. If you didn't know better you could say they looked like his dad's and his brother's when they transformed, just like people always said about his. But Harry could see the slight differences, just like his eyes. This woman had his eyes and despite her smile she was crying.

The man next to her put his hand on her shoulder and smiled down at her and then at Harry. That was when Harry first noticed this man's face; or more significantly his own face. People always mentioned how much Harry looked like his dad and his brother and always seemed surprised if they mentioned he was adopted. But this man looked almost exactly like him. He had the same hair and face, except his eyes were dark and he was a little lankier than Harry was. Could he be his birth father: And was the woman his birth mother? They had to be.

And they weren't alone. Sirius and another man who seemed to be prematurely graying stood with them. And behind them there was another man with grey hair that stood up in every which way like a saiyan's or like his and his biological dad's. And next to that man stood a woman with graying red hair. These must have been his birth father's parents; Sirius had teased him about red heads, because both his birth father and his father married red headed women. And behind his birth mother was another couple that must be her parents, his grandparents.

Harry's heart ached, filled half with joy and half terrible sorrow. He didn't know how long he stood memorizing not just the faces of his lost family but how they moved and silently interacted, but he suddenly realized he was ignoring half of the people in the mirror. When he looked over at his current family they smiled and waved at him as if they were unaware of his previous neglect.

Unbidden memories of his family and all of the things they'd done for him and all the fun and happy moments they'd shared filled his mind. Harry felt guilty. His father had died so he could live and here he was forgetting about him and his family, but the more he looked at the mirror, the more he realized that he didn't want to part with either of them. Was he greedy for wanting all of them to love him?

He didn't know how long he stayed after that, but it was nearing morning when noises in the castle prompted Harry to escape back to Gryffindor tower and his bed.

Without much sleep that night, Harry was tired all day the next day. Hermione accused him of faking it to get out of searching for Nicholas Flamel until he told her that he'd snuck into the restricted section.

"Did you find anything?" Hermione asked breathlessly.

"No," Harry struggled with whether or not to admit what he'd really been doing all night. "The first book I looked at screamed when I opened it. I had to run away from Filch and hide in an unused classroom."

"But why did that take you so long?" Hermione asked. "It's not like they'd have stayed right outside the door."

"It's what I found in there," Harry said excitedly. "There was this mirror…and when I looked at it I could see my family."

"How will that help us find Nicolas Flamel?" Hermione asked exasperatedly.

Harry made a brief sound and bowed his head embarrassedly. "I've never seen my birth parents before."

Hermione was about to retort but suddenly stopped herself suddenly. "Oh, Harry," Hermione suddenly seemed like she wanted to hug him, but wasn't sure if it was ok.

"Would you like to see?" Harry asked.

Hermione looked conflicted for a moment before she decided that she would. If anyone noticed them, they would have noticed a strange sight when Hermione walked past the Library doors without going in. It took some time to retrace his steps. And a couple of times Ron looked like he was about to complain, before Hermione poked him and shook her head. Then finally just as Hermione was about to ask if Harry was sure he could find it again, Harry found the corridor with the solitary suit of armor.

But when Harry stood in front of it neither of his friends could see anything more than a normal reflection and when they stood in front of it they did not see their families. Ron saw himself as head boy and captain of the Quidditch team, who had apparently won, because he was holding the quidditch cup. Hermione saw herself receiving an award called an Order of Merlin from Dumbledore for having discovered some new element of magic.

They jockeyed for positions in front of the mirror for several minutes before they started postulating what the mirror's function was. Though, Ron and Hermione did most of the theorizing while Harry became drawn toward the mirror again. But he was drawn away from his reverie when Hermione began to loudly pronounce her idiocy for not solving something so obvious. Ron and Harry had to remind her to reveal the secret to the mere mortals in the room.

The answer was the inscription on the mirror. When read backwards like in a mirror and the spaces were rearranged it read: I show not your face, but you're hearts desire. They each tried to concentrate on desiring to see what Nicholas Flamel created or what was hidden in the castle, but nothing changed for any of them. Eventually they gave up and went back to Gryffindor tower resigned to keep looking for whatever Flamel had created in the library, like before.

Ron and Hermione didn't ever show any interest in going back to look at the Mirror. Hermione said it was enough to see her goal and now she needed to work for it. Ron however warned Harry away from going back to it, saying he had a bad feeling about it. And in a landmark decision Hermione agreed.

But Harry didn't stay away. The next night he went to the restricted section and this time the first book he grabbed didn't make a peep, but after several books he found another one that was alarmed. When he fled the library he found his feet taking him down a fast becoming familiar set of hallways toward the enchanted mirror.

He stayed there the rest of the night and then the next night after he'd picked up a book with what Harry was suspecting was an alarm. Night after night he would visit the mirror after being forced to flee the library until he stopped even going to the library.

It didn't take long for Ron and Hermione to see the toll it was taking on Harry. He was constantly tired and didn't seem interested in anything, his grades suffered and he hardly ate, at least by his standard. At first they thought it was his lack of sleep and they forced him to sleep while they were in the library. But when he began to be less tired, but didn't seem get any better they began to suspect he was visiting the mirror.

They confronted him with it, but he wouldn't stop his nightly torture, agonizing over his feelings for his adoptive and birth parents. Nothing they could do would get him out of his funk. Not even when it started to snow and they invited him to several snowball fights. He didn't even smile when Fred and George enchanted several snowballs to chase professor Quirrell.

There were only a few days left in the new term and most of the students were thinking about Christmas and their vacation but it didn't appear that Harry even realized that either was coming up. Harry was once again sitting in front of the mirror when he realized that he was not alone.

Albus Dumbledore was sitting on one of the desks against the wall. "So, back again Harry?" The headmaster didn't look upset that Harry was up when he should have been in bed.

"So, you, like hundreds before you, have discovered the delights of the Mirror of Erised."

"I didn't know it was called that?" Harry replied nervously waiting for the anticipated punishment.

"But I expect by now you realize what it does?"

"Well it says it shows us our heart's desire," Harry pointed at the inscription above the mirror. "But no matter what we want, we always see the same thing."

"That is because it shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire of our hearts."

"Hermione Granger, who has never felt that she was respected by her peers, sees herself the object of wide acclaim. Ronald Weasley, who has always been overshadowed by his brothers, sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them. You, who have never known your biological family, see them standing around you along with you're current family I understand."

"Yes," Harry replied uneasily.

"And this troubles you?"

"Yes," Harry replied and when the headmaster didn't respond he continued. "The more I look at it the more I want to know about my biological family, but I love my adopted family and I could never give my family up. But I want to know about my birth family, but it feels like I'm betraying them…Am I greedy for wanting both of them to love me?"

"Harry," Dumbledore smiled in a grandfatherly type of way. "One is never greedy who offers to truly love those who love him in return."

"But what about my real family? I love them and they've done so much for me…"

"Harry," Dumbledore interrupted. "One of the most wonderful things about love is that loving one person does not diminish our ability to love another. And because of that it is no betrayal to your adoptive family to learn about and to love those that gave you life. You do not need to choose between them, you can love them both. And I dare say that if you would like to know more about your birth parents, you could write to your godfather Sirius Black. I'm sure he'd love to hear from you and would be happy to regale you with tales about your parents that would curl your hair."

Harry chuckled slightly. He had heard about some of his dad's adventures with Sirius. "Thank you sir," Harry replied quietly.

"However, Harry this mirror can be dangerous," Dumbledore still spoke kindly. "It will give us neither knowledge or truth. Men have wasted away before it, entranced by what they have seen, or been driven mad, not knowing if what it shows is real or even possible. That is why I must ask you not to come visit it any more. The Mirror will be moved to a new home when you return from Christmas break, Harry, and I ask you not to go looking for it again. If you ever do run across it, you will now be prepared. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live, remember that. Now do be careful, it would not do to be caught by Mr. Filch on your way back to bed."

"Yes sir," Harry replied as he stood up. "But sir…Professor Dumbledore…can I ask you something.

"Obviously, you've just done so," Dumbledore's smile turned into a mischievous smirk. "You may ask me one more thing, however."

"What do you see when you look in the mirror?"

"I…I see myself holding a pair of thick, woolen socks."

Harry's head jerked.

"One can never have enough socks," Dumbledore said. "Another Christmas is coming and I likely will not get a single pair. People will undoubtedly insist on giving me books."

Harry left after that and moved quickly through the halls. He was glad he hadn't used his invisibility when he hadn't had to in the halls. Otherwise Dumbledore might have found out. He was so relieved that he didn't realize that what he'd asked Dumbledore had been very personal and he had probably not been serious with the answer.

* * *

Harry took Dumbledore's advice to heart, but unfortunately it still didn't take away the pain in his heart or his dreams, which now featured his birth parents being killed in flashes of green light while someone laughed maniacally.

The fact that Harry was weeks behind everyone else in preparing for midterm exams was a blessing in disguise. Harry had to spend nearly all of his free time studying to make sure he was ready, which was a very high standard to live up to if you had Hermione Granger as a study partner. But it kept him from thinking about his family situation.

Harry didn't go back to the Mirror. He was sure Dumbledore would know if he did and he didn't want to risk revealing his ability to turn invisible if he got caught. Besides Dumbledore was right if he wanted to know more about his birth parents his godfather was the best choice.

Writing to Sirius was one of the few things Harry would do when he did have a moment free from studying. He decided that with all the stories his godfather had told him about his birth father's adventures breaking the rules at school that he could tell him about the mirror. Working out his thoughts and putting them on paper had helped a lot as had talking to Sirius. But what had helped the most was what he was most scared of: going home.

Being home with his brother and helping around the house for his mother who was about to have his baby brother helped Harry realize that Dumbledore was right. No matter how much he learned to love his birth parents, he still loved his family; all of his family.

After a wonderful Christmas vacation Harry met Hermione at King Cross Station. There was no bully this time, unless you count Sirius when he tried to jump out and scare them. He gave Harry his Christmas gift, a copy of the book on jinxes and hexes he'd been looking at in Flourish & Blotts the day they met. He apologized, not realizing Harry would be going home for Christmas he hadn't given his gift to him before he left like Hagrid, who had given him a hand carved flute and all of his friends had done.

The train ride was mostly uneventful. Harry and Hermione shared a compartment and mostly read. Though, Hermione seemed to disapprove of Harry's choice of reading material, his gift from Sirius. Eventually Harry tried to explain that the curses were mostly kid's stuff that were mostly good for pranks and he just wanted to practice them to get ready for more advanced spells. For some reason, that didn't help his cause much.

They were talking about their parents and their vacation, Hermione was especially interested in Harry's mum and the baby she was carrying, when Malfoy and his two thugs, Crabbe and Goyle barged into their compartment. In retrospect Harry thought he should have expected it, it would probably be a tradition every train trip.

"Ah, Potter," Malfoy had said as soon as he'd opened the door. "Practicing you're stories on the know-it-all before you try to lie to the rest of us about the family you paid to take you in over the holidays?"

"Oh, Draco," Harry pulled his wand out of his pocket and began to thumb through is new book. "I've been looking for someone to try some of these new curses I've read about on."

Malfoy recoiled and grabbed for his wand. "Practice on the book worm Potter."

"But I might need her help if something goes wrong," Harry replied instantly. "Don't worry if I do this right it will only hurt for a moment, I think…"

Malfoy raised his wand in front of himself nervously, but Harry didn't seem to notice. Harry was looking straight at the book and practicing a vicious looking wand movement, which seemed to make Malfoy nervous. Then Harry performed the wand motion one more time and muttered, "Castrado detonay."

When Harry looked up, apparently finally ready to test the curse, Hermione was looking at him wide eyed while Malfoy and his thugs were pushing past each other to get out of the compartment.

"You said that book only had harmless jinxes in it," Hermione accused. "What would that spell have done to him?"

"I don't know," Harry answered, "I made it up."

Hermione stared at him slack jawed before she covered her mouth to try and hide her laughter. It was a useless gesture. And soon she was rolling on her seat with her arms wrapped around her sides laughing.

The rest of the ride passed on in mostly silence with the two of them reading their books, punctuated randomly by Hermione breaking out into minor fits of giggles. It was a side of his friend that Harry had never seen before. He did his best to see more. Every time she started to laugh he'd ask if he had something on his face, clothes or in his teeth or had he missed a button or left his fly down. Harry didn't think she'd ever laughed so much as she did on that train ride.

However when they met Ron, Harry didn't have time to ask him about his holiday or regale him with the tale of what he'd done to Malfoy, because Hermione immediately started grilling Ron about what he'd found out about Nicholas Flamel while they were gone.

"Well I don't suppose you even looked did you?" Hermione asked scathingly when Ron admitted that he hadn't found anything.

Ron was looking at his shoes abashedly and Hermione was taking a deep breath to begin her tirade when Harry decided to interrupt them. "It doesn't matter Hermione."

"What do you mean it doesn't matter?" Hermione turned on Harry. "Snape's already let a troll loose in a school full of children. We're all in danger until someone puts a stop to it."

"Because I found him," Harry smirked at her.

"What?—How? You didn't have access to a magical library while you were away?" Hermione was bouncing excitedly now.

"Nope, but I had access to chocolate frogs."

Hermione looked confused for a moment before Ron piped in. "You mean Nicolas Flamel has his own chocolate frog card? Then why don't I remember it?"

"Well I don't know if he has his own card," Harry answered. "But he's on Dumbledore's. I gave my brother a bunch of wizard sweets for Christmas and I saw it when I was explaining the cards in the chocolate frogs."

"But what does it say about him?" Hermione asked impatiently.

"Look at this," Harry pulled a card out of his pocket and started reading. "Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel."

"But that doesn't tell us what Flamel made." Ron pointed out

"But it does tell us where to look," Harry replied.

Ron didn't look very convinced and Hermione wanted to head straight to the library. But Ron and Harry insisted on going to dinner, they were already late. So it wasn't until later than night that they found Nicholas Flamel's name in several books about alchemy. And they all said the same thing. Nicholas Flamel was the only known creator of the sorcerers' stone. The book that Hermione found stated it best. 'The ancient study of alchemy is concerned with making the Sorcerers' Stone, a legendary substance with astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also produces the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal.

There have been many reports of the Sorcerers' Stone over the centuries, but the only Stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight).' The book was only a couple of years old.

"So that's why Snape is after it. He could be rich and live forever," Ron whispered excitedly.

"Flamel must have known someone was after it so he asked Dumbledore to guard it," Hermione said.

"I don't know," Harry grabbed his chin thoughtfully. "Snape doesn't strike me as the type to be looking for immortality or money. He'd want power before he went against Dumbledore."

"Maybe he figures that if he was immortal Dumbledore couldn't hurt him," Hermione suggested.

"Or if he had all that gold he could bribe enough of politicians to get rid of Dumbledore." Ron added.

Harry wasn't sure if he was convinced. But he had to admit Snape was the type to be up to no good. He didn't dwell on it much that night, because of a different mystery. He found a brown package on his bed with a note on it that read:

_Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well._

_A Very Merry Christmas to you._

Harry didn't know what it was, but Ron recognized it and fortunately had the sense to keep their dorm-mates from seeing it. It was an invisibility cloak. Despite being able to turn himself invisible without it Harry treasured it. The cloak was the only thing he had that had once belonged to his birth father. But no that they had already figured out about Nicholas Flamel, Harry didn't know what he'd use it for. Despite that he crept out that night under the cloak and explored some more of the school trying to experience a little of what his father must have felt when he was a boy at school here.

The cloaks distraction didn't take Harry's mind off of Snape for long. The weeks of vacation hadn't mellowed him out. If anything they had seemed to make him more determined to break into Harry's mind. After what he did at the quidditch match and four months of fighting him in that class, Harry no longer had any doubts that it was him doing it.

Now that they knew what Fluffy was guarding they'd found that didn't put them any closer to being able to stop the thief or thieves that were after it. But fortunately the no longer had to spend every free moment looking in the Library, because now that the next match was coming up Wood was scheduling extra practices nearly every night, leaving Harry with little free time at all.

It seemed that now that Wood had a taste of victory he wanted more. If Harry had to guess the only nights they didn't have quidditch practice were the nights that Wood couldn't get permission to use the pitch. Even the deluge of rain that replaced the snow didn't dampen his spirits. As he kept reminding them, if they could beat Hufflepuff they'd be able to overtake Slytherin in the inter-house championship.

But during one of the muddiest practices so far Wood gave them some of the worst news he could have ever given them. Harry, who had been horse-playing in the air with Fred and George, fell of his broom and had to remind himself not to stop his fall into the mud. George nearly landed on Harry when he fell off too.

Later that night, after thoroughly cleaning himself up, Harry found his friends in the Gryffindor common room playing chess. Though when wizards and witches played they didn't pick up and move the pieces, they gave them orders and the animated pieces moved themselves and pummeled each other. It was probably the only thing Hermione ever lost at, at least when she played Ron, so far no one in Gryffindor tower had beaten him. Harry thought that it was good for both of them.

When Harry sat down next to Ron and looked at the board he could see he'd arrived just as the inevitable was happening. And three moves later Ron had beaten Hermione.

"What's the matter Harry?" Hermione asked when she finally looked up from the board. "You look like there's about to be a test."

"Yah, mate you look grim," Ron said, "Like you're about to have to go to potions class."

Harry chuckled, only Hermione would look at his face and immediately think of a test. He was worried about something, but it he saw it as more of a fight than anything else. Though, Ron was close. "Snape's going to be refereeing our next game."

His friends' response was immediate. "Don't play," Hermione gasped out.

"Say you're ill," Ron suggested.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione entreated.

"Really break your leg," Ron said.

"I can't," Harry interrupted them before their suggestions got to something really painful. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out Gryffindor has to forfeit. Besides I refuse to lose to Snape."

"But he'll try to kill you," Ron's voice drowned out Hermione's. Before anyone could reply they were interrupted by the sound of laughing coming from all over the common room.

When they turned around they saw the entire common room laughing at Neville, who had apparently just gotten through the portrait hole and was hopping toward them, apparently because his legs were stuck together with what Harry recognized from the book Sirius gave him as the Leg-Locker Curse.

"Oh, Neville," Hermione said, immediately jumping out of her seat to help him. But Harry was faster with his wand and muttering the counter curse sent a blue ball of light that released Neville's legs once it struck him. Unfortunately this caused Neville to loose his balance and fall on the floor.

"What happened?" Hermione asked in her most soothing voice.

"Malfoy," Neville spat the name. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

Harry was impressed. It showed real determination to bunny hop the entire way across the castle from the library to their tower.

"Tell Professor McGonagall–Report him." Hermione urged him.

But Neville just muttered, "I don't want any more trouble."

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" Ron said emotionally. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

Harry was about to add his own plea, but Neville answered before he could say anything. "There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out, nearly sobbing.

"Don't listen to that weakling coward," Harry yelled as he reached into his pocket for the last of the chocolate frogs that Hermione had given him for Christmas. "I bet if he'd been left like that he'd have just lain there and whined until someone helped him. That makes you twice the man he is. And you've easily got five or six times as much magical power as he does, so I figure that makes you worth twelve of him."

The corner of Neville's mouth quirked weakly as he opened the chocolate frog's wrapper. "Thanks Harry," Neville said weekly before he bit into the frog.

"Just remember that in my books you rate more than 12 times what Malfoy does." Harry patted the depressed boy on the shoulder.

"Thanks," Neville replied again. "Do you want the card? I know you collect them."

"Who is it?" Harry asked.

Neville looked, "Dumbledore."

Harry grinned knowingly. "That's an important card, you keep it."

"That was a nice thing to say," Hermione said quietly as Neville climbed up the stairs to the boy's dormitories and the three of them sat back down.

"Can you really tell how much magic a person has?" Ron asked excitedly.

"Of course not Ron," Hermione answered for Harry.

"Actually I can," Harry responded. "Sensing people's energies is a part of my family's style of martial arts. It took me a while to get used to magical energy, especially with all of the energy that radiates from the school."

"But you either have magic or you don't." Hermione explained. "If everyone had different levels than some of the students would run out of energy or get tired in class."

"Well from what I can tell the simple spells we learn in first year are weak enough that everyone they let in can do them, and you get stronger the more you use your magic and as you grow.

"Yeah, why do you think they wait until you're eleven years old before you can get into Hogwarts? It's so you've got enough magic to do the spells. And they don't take everybody. There are some people that have barely got more magic than a squib. They usually have to take special courses and practice really hard just to be able to do some of the most basic magic."

Hermione shook her head as if to clear it from distraction before she spoke up. "That's not what we need to be talking about. We need to talk about why Harry can't play in the next game with Snape trying to kill him."

"Don't worry, Hermione you're almost as strong as Neville," Harry told her.

"That's not the point, what if Snape jinxes you're broom again?" Hermione sounded exasperated, but Harry could tell that she looked relieved.

"What if he does," Harry replied. "It didn't work that well for him last time. And this time he'll be where I can fight back."

"But you can't just attack a teacher," Hermione said indignantly.

"Or the Ref." Ron added.

"Yes, but he can't just attack me either," Harry replied

"That didn't stop him last time," Ron raised his voice.

"Yes, but don't you see, he's leveled the playing field," Harry smirked. "This time everyone will be watching him, especially because they'll think he's going to favor Hufflepuff so we don't pass Slytherin in the house cup. He'll have to be really subtle if he doesn't want to get caught, but now he'll be out where I can fight back as long as I'm just as sneaky about it."

"But he's a fully qualified wizard," Hermione almost screeched. "He's got years of experience of magic over you."

"Then he shouldn't have given me warning so far ahead. Now I'll have weeks to plan out ways to fight back."

And plan and practice he did. Not only had potions classes had gotten worse with Snape being his meanest and no less than two mental attacks a class, but Snape also seemed to be following him around the castle, so trying to catch him off guard to read his mind in the halls. Harry wondered if he'd figured out that they knew about the stone, but more importantly he realized that the most dangerous thing that Snape could do would be to attack his mind while he was flying. So Harry made sure to spend his time practicing his meditation and focusing on the most painful moment in his life, when Napa had killed him, so he could get Snape out of his head as soon as possible. He even used a tunnel behind a mirror on the fourth floor that Sirius had told him about to get to a large clearing surrounded by trees near the neighboring village, Hogsmeade to practice flying without falling while focusing on his painful memory. Harry planned to use it to train in. And it was a good thing he'd found it, because he'd caught Snape and Filch suspiciously close to the area he now called the Gryffindor armory where he had been training.

On a more pleasant note, at least as far as Harry was concerned, someone had ambushed Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle in an out of the way corridor with their legs locked together like Neville had been. Apparently they had just sat there for over an hour until a passing teacher had found them.

The day of the match Harry ate much better than he had the first time. He knew he'd need all of his energy if he was going to have to deal with Snape. And when his friends escorted him to the locker rooms and wished him luck that they were worried. He'd caught Ron and Hermione practicing the Leg-Locker Curse. So Harry had told them that what he needed would distract Snape so he couldn't concentrate on flying and whatever else he was doing. Hermione had decided on a nasty itching hex while Ron had secretly practiced on a hex he said would do the job.

Harry just shook his head as his friends walked toward the stands fingering their wands. Harry wasn't worried for his life. If it came down to it Harry was pretty sure he could get away from trouble if he had to. But to tell the truth with all the danger, excitement and violence he was really starting to like this game, quidditch.

He got into his quidditch robes and put on his game face, psyching himself up for the upcoming _match_. Wood looked like he wanted to take Harry aside, but stopped when he saw the look on Harry's face. He'd already told Harry during every practice that he needed to find the snitch as soon as possible this game to prevent Snape from being able to favor Hufflepuff too much. Harry was reviewing his strategies including various ways he could knock Snape off his broom and make it look like an accident as well as some ways he could surreptitiously use his skill at levitation.

"The whole school's out there!" Fred Weasley's head was sticking out the door "Even—blimey—Dumbledore's come to watch!" he exclaimed.

Harry smirked. If anyone could detect magical foul play it would be Dumbledore. He'd probably didn't dare use any of his magic, but Snape was going to have a rough time of it if he even dared to try anything. But if it was just his flying skills, Harry felt that the deck was stacked in his favor.

Harry's smirk stayed plastered on his face until they were marching up toward Snape on the pitch. Snape had never looked so furious. If Harry had to guess, he'd say Snape didn't appreciate Dumbledore being there. Harry schooled his features and stared at Snape; doing his best impression of the grim expression he'd seen his father use when he stared down his enemies. Harry called it his game face. Fortunately Snape didn't have the audacity to say he wanted a clean game, Harry wouldn't have been able to hold in his laughter and it would have ruined the effect.

Snape didn't even blow a whistle. He just threw the quaffle up and barked, "Begin!" Just like the last game, Harry pulled his broom tip back and shot forward instead of rising horizontally and much more slowly like everyone else. But this time he didn't fly through the opposing team's formation, but instead he shot right by Snape. Not close enough to tempt him to try anything, but close enough that Snape would feel the wind left in his wake.

Harry looked into the stands as he rose above them just in time to see Malfoy poking Ron in the back of the head. Harry wondered if this was part of Snape's plan to distract him or if it was just Malfoy being a pest.

Today Harry didn't plan on slowing down much. As soon as he reached a respectable altitude Harry pulled back on his broom and flew across the pitch upside down, before he righted himself and flew back across a different way.

No one had ever seen a seeker constantly use such high speed maneuvers as Harry was doing. Harry had alternated between fast and slow the last game, but no one really knew what to make of that either. Harry had after jumped off his broom to catch the snitch.

It confused the Hufflepuff seeker, a stringy boy with spectacles in his seventh year. He didn't know whether to follow Harry or continue to circle looking for the snitch. He'd followed Harry the first time he'd shot down and across the pitch, but Harry had turned at the end of the pitch and shot back across while upside down along the ground with no sign of the snitch.

Harry's antics nearly got Snape cursed. The potions professor couldn't make heads or tales of Harry's behavior either and when Hermione saw him muttering curses to himself as his head snapped from side to side tracking Harry's every insane movement she almost cursed him.

If George Weasley would have known that the bludgers he hit toward Snape, nearly knocking the distracted potions master off his broom, had saved the man from suffering through a nasty itching hex while vomiting slugs, he very well might not have done it. However when the iron ball grazed Snape's shoulder despite his desperate last second dodge, and Harry continued to fly at top speed, Hermione decided that he must have been flying that way on purpose. The only change in Harry's flying when Snape lost his concentration was a victory roll and massive cork-screw across the sky in support of George's actions.

Less amused than Harry, Snape awarded Hufflepuff a penalty shot. Wood looked like he wanted to give a George a good yelling at, but was too busy blocking the penalty shot from one of the Hufflepuff chaser to do it. It was to be, Harry suspected the first of many Hufflepuff penalty shots.

And it quickly became apparent that Harry was right. Harry hadn't finished half a dozen circuits of the field before Snape had awarded another penalty shot to Hufflepuff. The same chaser was lining up for his shot when Harry launched himself into the air and lazily fell backward until he was freefalling in a dive. Pushing every ounce of speed he cold manage Harry dived right by Snape, so close his robes might have hit him and at the last possible moment he relaxed the throttle, swung his completely around and let loose with all the broom was worth until he stopped a foot off the ground with his broom standing straight up and his arm held high holding the snitch.

The crowd erupted in cheers and Lee Jordan announced Gryffindor's win while Snape looked confused for a minute. But he recovered after just a moment. And when he landed he looked furious.

Harry let himself drop to the ground and spun his broom around his arm, shoulder and neck before he began to strut toward the locker room. He didn't make it very far before all of Gryffindor had made it out of the stands and had lifted him up on their shoulders cheering. The crowd was so tight that Ron and Hermione couldn't get close to him. He saw Hermione jumping up and down at the edge of the crowd and Ron was cheering even though he'd somehow gotten a bloody nose. Gryffindor was now ahead in the house championship!

The locker room was empty by the time he got back to it. It had taken Harry a while to get away from the exuberant crowd. He could now see how that kind of thing could get addictive. It was intoxicating.

After changing and spending some time relaxing to regain his calm center Harry left the locker room to put his broom away in the broom shed. He'd put his broom away and was closing the shed's door when he felt a familiar energy approaching him.

Hiding behind the shed he saw a hooded figure moving quickly away from the castle apparently trying not to be seen. If Harry hadn't recognized the approaching figures posture and the stalking way he walked, he would have been able to recognize the angry feel of Severus Snape's living energy.

Keeping the shed between himself and the approaching figure, Harry made himself invisible and waited until Snape had entered the forest. Then he shot into the air and followed Snape's energy through the trees in the forbidden forest. Careful not to make a sound Harry moved slowly until he landed on a large branch in a tree overlooking a clearing where Snape had met another cloaked figure.

It was Quirrell judging by the way he stuttered. ... d-don't know why you wanted t-t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus..."

"Oh, I thought we'd keep this private," Snape said menacingly "Students aren't supposed to know about the Sorcerer's Stone, after all."

Quirrell started mumbling something too quiet for Harry to hear where he was. Harry was about to move closer when Snape interrupted.

"Have you found out how to get past that beast of Hagrid's yet?"

"B-b-but Severus, I…"

"You don't want me as your enemy, Quirrell," Snape took another menacing step toward the cowering professor.

"I-I don't know what you…"

"You know perfectly well what I mean."

An owl hooted loudly in Harry's ear making him miss the first part of what Snape said, "…your little bit of hocus-pocus. I'm waiting."

"B-but I d-d-don't…"

"Very well," Snape cut in. "We'll have another little chat soon, when you've had time to think things over and decided where your loyalties lie." Snape threw his hood back over his head and stalked away from the clearing leaving Quirrell terrified and still standing back up against a tree where he left him.

Deciding that he couldn't get caught after witnessing that exchange; Harry left the cowering professor and leapt into the air above the forbidden forest. He was still invisible, but it seemed that it was an unnecessary precaution. Neither of the professors had ever looked up.

When Harry got back into the castle he ran into Ron and Hermione in front of the great hall. But unfortunately he'd missed dinner.

"Harry, where have you been?" Hermione asked reprovingly while Ron shouted excitedly about their victory.

"There's no time for that now…" Harry began, but Ron interrupted

"That's right," Ron agreed. "Everyone's waiting for you in the common room. We're having a party. Fred and George even stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"That's great, but…" Ron didn't let him continue this time either.

"And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle."

"Way to go Neville," Harry cheered. He was surprised and more than a little impressed.

"He's still out cold but, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right." Ron continued.

"That's great, but…" Harry began, but changed track when it looked like Ron had more to say. "Come on, let's go. I have something to tell you." Harry stalked off before Ron could interrupt.

His two friends followed Harry into a classroom in a deserted corridor. Harry closed his eyes and reached out with his senses before closing the door and explaining everything he heard. "It sounds like Snape really is going after the stone and he's trying to force Quirrell into helping him."

"There must be more than Fluffy guarding the stone." Hermione postulated. "If Snape asked about Quirrell's hocus-pocus, he must have done something to guard the stone too and Snape wants to know how to get past it."

"Great," Ron slapped his forehead. "If Quirrell is all that stands between Snape and the stone, it'll be gone by Tuesday."


	7. Where the Wild Things Are

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

See Chapter 1 and remember don't charge sleeping dragons.

* * *

Chapter 7: Where the Wild Things Are

* * *

The weeks went by and Harry, Ron and Hermione still couldn't do much to protect the stone. They would occasionally listen at Fluffy's door to make sure the giant dog was still there. The beast's growls and snores didn't tell them much, but as far as Harry could tell he had plenty of ki, so he was probably uninjured. 

They also did their best to casually follow Quirrell around as much as they could, hoping to keep Snape from being able to confront him alone. Harry took time to encourage the constantly quivering Professor and Ron even started scolding the students he heard mocking Quirrell's stuttering.

Despite their fears the stone appeared to stay safe weeks after they would have thought Quirrell would have caved in. He was apparently braver than he looked.

Shortly before Easter break Hermione suddenly started to panic. "Ten weeks," Hermione exclaimed as she through a large pile of notes on one of the common room tables. "Finals start in ten weeks. I can't believe I got so distracted."

When no one shared a similar panicked reaction to her outburst, she looked up from the notes she was starting to sort. "We should have started studying a month ago," Hermione declared.

"Hermione," Ron sounded long suffering. "Final Exams are ages away."

"It's only ten weeks Ron," Hermione sounded outraged. "That's like a few seconds to Nicholas Flamel."

"Yah, we're not six hundred years old," Ron quipped. "Why do you need to study anyway? You already know it all anyway."

"What am I studying for? Are you crazy? You realize we need to pass these exams to get into the second year? They're very important…"

"Hermione, calm down," Harry interrupted her rant. "You need to calm down if you're going to study. You need to be calm and undistracted or you won't accomplish anything."

"At least that's what my mum always said," Harry appended when Hermione didn't look pleased at his outburst.

"How well have you ever done on your exams?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Actually," Harry scratched the back of his head nervously. "I've always just learned something and moved on to the next thing that builds off of it. I've never really had to take a final exam before."

From there the conversation degraded into Hermione lecturing about the importance of Final Exams and various strategies for test taking and studying. All the while Ron tried to convince Harry that things weren't that bad and he didn't need to study quite as much as Hermione was suggesting.

However the Professors seemed to take Hermione's view. As Easter break approached they began piling on more and more homework. So much so that Ron and Harry found themselves spending a lot more time with Hermione in the Library just to finish their homework.

Harry was using a memorization technique his mother had taught him to common magical plants and their uses when he noticed Hagrid. He had never seen Hagrid in the library before. And Hagrid's size and the large moleskin overcoat he wore would have made him stand out. Harry didn't think he would have missed him.

"Hagrid," Harry called quietly to his friend. "What brings you here?"

"Jus' lookin'," Hagrid shuffled a book behind his back and looked around the room dubiously instantly making Harry, Ron and Hermione interested in what their friend was up to.

"An' what're you lot up ter?" Hagrid stared down suspiciously at his three young friends. "Yer not still lookin' fer Nicolas Flamel, are yeh?"

"Oh, we found out who he is ages ago," Ron blurted out. "And we know what that dog's guarding, it's a Sorcerers' St…"'

"Shhhhh." Hagrid looked around quickly. "Don' go shoutin' about it, what's the matter with yeh?"

"Acutaully there are a few things we needed to know," Harry began. "Other than Fluffy, what else is guarding the stone?

"SHHHHH." Hagrid was louder this time. "Listen - come an' see me later, I'm not promisin' I'll tell yeh anythin', mind, but don' go rabbitin' about it in here, students aren' s'pposed ter know. They'll think I've told yeh…"

"See you later then," Harry said happily. Hagrid seemed to retreat out the door slipping a book in one of his oversized pockets.

"He never did answer my question about what he was looking for did he?" Harry asked.

"And what was that behind his back?" Hermione asked. "Do you think it could be about the stone?"

"I'll go check what section he was in," Ron had already jumped away from the desk and turned around by the time he'd finished speaking.

He came back with a couple of books in his arms. "Dragons! Hagrid was looking at books about dragons," Ron whispered numbly. "Look at these: Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland; From Egg to Inferno, A Dragon Keeper's Guide."

"That makes sense," Harry said absently as he grabbed the two books Ron had brought. He seemed more interested in which of the two books he would read first. "He told me that he'd always wanted a dragon."

"But it's against our laws," Ron was a little hysterical. "Dragon breeding was outlawed by the Warlocks' Convention of 1709, everyone knows that." Ron didn't see the impressed look in Hermione's eyes. She didn't know that. "It's hard to stop Muggles from noticing us if we're keeping dragons in the back garden—anyway, you can't tame dragons, it's dangerous. You should see the burns Charlie's got off wild ones in Romania."

"But aren't there dragons in Great Britain," Harry asked while looking at the book on dragon species.

"Of course there are," said Ron. "Common Welsh Green and Hebridean Blacks. The Ministry of Magic has a job hushing them up, I can tell you. Our kind have to keep putting spells on Muggles who've spotted them, to make them forget."

Harry was suddenly glad he hadn't mentioned his _pet_ dragon Icarus. He and his brother, Gohan had helped take care of Icarus while the dragon was still young. Though they visited the dragon often, he wasn't even slightly domesticated.

Fortunately Hermione didn't notice the guilty look that flittered across his face. She was too busy postulating about what Hagrid could be doing with Ron. It wasn't until a few hours later that they arrived at Hagrid's hut. They would have been there sooner, but Harry was busy reading about dragons.

The hut was extremely hot when Hagrid invited them inside. Despite the warm weather Hagrid had a large fire stoked in the fire place. Harry was again the only person to accept Hagrid's offering of food. This time they were stoat sandwiches."

"So Harry, what were yeh needin' to ask me?" Hagrid asked.

"Well," Harry swallowed a bit from his sandwich. "We need to know what else is guarding the stone."

"I can't tell yeh that," Hagrid was much calmer than he had been before. "Number one, I don' now meself. Number two, yeh know too much already, so I wouldn' tell yeh if I could. That Stone's here fer a good reason. It was almost stolen outta Gringotts…I s'ppose yeh've worked that out an' all? Beats me how yeh even know abou' Fluffy."

"We accidentally ran into the forbidden corridor one night," Harry said between bites of his sandwich.

"Yeh did wha?" Hagrid's voice boomed.

Looking up from is sandwich Harry realized he should not have said that. "We were lost," Harry tried to sound defensive.

"But the door's always locked," Hagrid blurted out.

"We unlocked it," Harry said nervously.

"Why woul' yeh do tha? Didn' yeh thin' there might a' been a reason tha' door was locked?"

"There wasn't anywhere to go," Harry tried to hold back his annoyance at everyone underestimating him. He was trying to keep his strength a secret after all. "Malfoy set Filch on us."

"What were yeh doin' out a bounds anyways?" Hagrid asked suspiciously.

"Well…I don't want to ask you to betray the trust that Dumbledore places in you so we better not say. But don't worry, it won't happen again," Harry smiled reassuringly at Hagrid, who looked to be beaming underneath his beard at Harry's praise.

"That's right," Hermione smiled at Hagrid. "We know how much Dumbledore trusts you. We were just wondering who else he trusts enough to guard the stone."

"Ok, guess I can tell yeh that…" Harry wasn't sure, but he thought Hagrid might be blushing underneath his beard. "He borrowed Fluffy from me o'course... then some o' the teachers did enchantments...Professor Sprout…Professor Flitwick…Professor McGonagall…Professor Quirrell…an' Dumbledore himself did somethin', o' course. Hang on, I've forgotten someone. Oh yeah, Professor Snape."

Hagrid's audience gasped at his last revelation. "Look Dumbledore trusts Professor Snape an' yeh should too, even if yeh don' like him much. An' the stone is very well protected so no more going out a' bounds it's dangerous right now."

"Don't worry, I won't let them," Hermione said sternly. "If they'd have listened to me they wouldn't have been out of bounds for Filch to catch."

Incensed Harry turned toward her. "If you had been paying attention that night instead of trying to lecture us, you would remember that I didn't go, I _knew_ it was a trap."

"Oh," Hermione said disbelievingly. "Then why did you go?"

"How was I supposed to know he would be willing to hide his face completely behind someone else? I've never met some one who was as big a coward as Malfoy." Harry waved his arms to emphasize his point.

"Wha' do yeh mean by that?" Hagrid asked. He'd quickly lost track of what the two were talking about. Ron looked questioningly at them as well. Apparently he wasn't doing much better and he'd been there at the time.

"Well," Harry scratched his head as he turned back toward Hagrid. "Every coward I've ever known would at least have been waiting for me with a bunch of other people to beat me up. So I couldn't risk letting Ron walk into that alone if that was what Malfoy was planning."

"You must not have met many cowards then," Ron laughed.

"Right," Hermione went in for the kill. "It's what Snape would have done. And if you don't understand how he would act you can't say he isn't the type to try and steal the stone from Dumbledore."

"No," Harry said sternly. "Snape would have arranged it so he could get away with attacking me in some way and I wouldn't be able to do anything about it and he couldn't be punished for it."

"Yer' not still on bout' tha are yeh," Hagrid broke in. "Look, Snape helping protect the Stone, he's not about ter steal it. An' even if he didn' like yeh Harry, he wouldn' attack yeh."

"He did at the first Quidditch match," Hermione said immediately

"And almost every Friday," Harry added before Hagrid could retort.

"What?" Hermione sounded shocked.

"Yeah, he tries to read my mind and I have to push him out," Harry said around another bite of stoat sandwich.

"And every time he does Snape stumbles around," Ron interjected. "Some times it looks like he's about to pass out."

"You mean all those time's Snape nearly falls down in class is because he's trying to read your mind?" Hermione asked. Harry just nodded.

"And you're just now telling me about it?" Hermione looked upset that he'd been hiding it from her.

"Well it's just never come up since we started spending time together," Harry said defensively.

"But you've got to tell Professor McGonagall or even Professor Dumbledore," Hermione insisted.

But the truth was that having something that he could beat the potions professor at as what made the class bearable for Harry and he didn't want to tell. Quiltily wanting to ignore Hermione's pleas to tell a teacher Harry started staring at the fire. More specifically he started staring at something in the fire.

"Hagrid, what's that?" Harry pointed at a large black egg sitting in the middle of the embers.

"Ah…well, that's err…" Hagrid mumbled.

"Where did you get it Hagrid?" Ron crawled over to the fireplace to get a closer look at the large egg, ah-ing appreciatively. "It must of cost a fortune."

"Won it, las' night. I was down in the village havin' a few drinks an' got into a game o' cards with a stranger. Think he was quite glad ter get rid of it, ter be honest." Hagrid looked pleased. Harry was pretty sure it was because of his prize more than his prowess at cards.

"What type is it, do you know Hagrid?" Harry asked excitedly.

"It's a Norwegan Ridgeback, isn't it Hagrid?" Ron piped in. Hermione might have been impressed at Ron's knowledge if she hadn't been so worried.

"That's right Ron," Hagrid smiled beneath his beard. "Yeh can tell by its black color and the golden flecks that yeh can only see when it's hot."

"But why do you have it in the fire?" Harry asked cautiously.

"Why to keep it warm, o' course." Hagrid explained happily. "Yeh, see their mothers breathe on 'em. See I've bin doin' some readin' it says so right here in Dragon Breeding for Pleasure and Profit."

Hagrid lifted a large book out from where he'd hidden it under his pillow and opened it. Harry didn't waste a second scooting over to read it with him. "See, an' when it hatches, feed it on a bucket o' brandy mixed with chicken blood every half hour."

"What do their mother's feed them?" Harry asked. And soon the two of them were huddled over Hagrid's book discussing various aspects of growing dragons while Hermione looked on in dread. Hermione tried to interject that Hagrid lived in a wooden house, but the two didn't seem to notice.

Their visit wasn't the longest, due to the stifling heat in Hagrid's hut. The three students were glad to be out in the cooling evening air. Hermione however was on a mission to convince Harry that the dragon had to go.

"I know," Harry sighed. "But what are we going to tell Hagrid? After seeing how happy he was I just didn't have the heart to tell Hagrid he couldn't keep it. And even if we could convince him what are we going to do with the dragon then?"

No one had an answer from that one. Hermione frowned, silently thinking as they walked back up to the castle. It was indeed a bit of a conundrum on top of all the things they had to worry about.

"I wonder what it would be like to have a normal life," Ron bemoaned.

"I expect it would be rather dull," Harry replied with a grin causing both boys to laugh. Hermione however didn't seem to agree with Harry's sentiment.

Their problems didn't diminish and neither did their homework. Night after night they struggled to keep up with all the homework they had received. They didn't seem to have any time to worry about what to do about Hagrid's illegal dragon or Snape and the stone. And the study schedules Hermione had made for Harry and Ron didn't include any time to work on anything but school work. Harry had to make extra time to work on the homework his mum had given him and to train, which he had grudgingly had to cut back. Ron, who wasn't used to the strict study schedules that Harry's mum had always given Harry, wasn't taking it so well. He was pretty upset about it.

Then one morning Hedwig had arrived with a not from Hagrid. It just said: "It's hatching." Harry was excited at the prospect at seeing a dragon hatch. Icarus had after all been fairly grown when Harry's dad, had shown Harry and Gohan to his cave so they could take care of him. He was so excited that when Ron and Hermione had started to argue about skipping herbology to see the egg hatch Harry didn't notice Malfoy until the blond nuisance had stopped and turned his head to listen into the argument.

"Shhh," Harry whispered and grabbed his two friends by the collar to drag them away from Malfoy's prying ears. They were both upset by the treatment, but all Harry had to do to cut off their complaints was to whisper the blond Slytherin's name. How much had he heard, they all wondered silently.

The argument hadn't ended there however. Ron and Hermione had argued, if a little more discreetly than before, all the way to Herbology. In the end they decided to visit Hagrid during their break that morning.

When the bell rang they dropped everything and ran to Hagrid's hut. Harry had to remind himself not to go too fast. They were immediately ushered in when they arrived and sat around Hagrid's table looking at the egg that now had several large cracks in it.

For several minutes they watched as the egg made small movements and listed to the strange clicking and cracking sounds. Eventually the egg was nearly split in half and a black form emerged. It was wrinkled all over and had two large spinney wings that were much larger than the rest of its body. The baby dragon had only the barest hints of horns and glowing red eyes.

The young dragon took its first stumbling steps and sneezed, sending sparks out of its snout. Harry laughed it was so cute.

"Isn't he beautiful," Hagrid murmured and reached out to stroke the baby dragon which snapped at his fingers. "Bless him, look, he knows his mommy!"

Harry didn't know where Hagrid had gotten that idea from, but before he could say anything more Hagrid went white and ran for the door. "What is it?" Harry asked worried.

"There was a kid lookin' through the gap in the curtains. He's runnin' back up ter the school."

Harry appeared outside the hut in an instant. He couldn't see the student's face, but he recognized him instantly. It was Malfoy.

Harry knew he could catch up to the fleeing boy in an instant, but Harry held himself back. It wasn't out of fear of revealing his abilities, but because he wasn't sure what he should do. He could grab Malfoy and be in the forbidden forest threatening him before anyone knew what was happening. But would that even help or would it make Malfoy even more likely to try and cause trouble? And more importantly would it be right? Malfoy definitely had no business snooping around Hagrid's or trying to get the game keeper or them into trouble, but Hagrid was breaking the law. Would Harry be justified? Furious at the whole situation Harry stood rigid staring at Malfoy's retreating form while his robes flapped wildly around him.

Hagrid was too distraught to have noticed Harry's teleportation like movement out the door or the quiet growl that instinctively escaped Harry's angry throat. Harry didn't stop glaring at Malfoy until he heard Hermione trying to sooth Hagrid and bring him back into his hut.

The three of them spent every night for the next week with Hagrid in his hut helping him take care of his dragon. Hagrid had named him Norbert, but even Hagrid's enthusiasm about his beloved pet was tainted by the shadow of what might happen if Malfoy told anyone.

They spent their time helping a very haggard Hagrid take care of little Norbert; and of course trying to convince Hagrid to give up his darling dragon. Hagrid was grateful for what help he cold get even if it did come at the price of his three young friends trying to tell him to give up his beautiful baby. The truth was Norbert kept him so busy he'd been unable to perform many of his duties at Hogwarts. Little Norbert needed him so constantly that he couldn't do much else. Which was why he couldn't just let him go into the wild, without him the poor little baby would be helpless.

Over the week Harry, Ron and Hermione had offered a lot of suggestions, but nothing they could think of would keep both Norbert and the people in the surrounding area safe. Harry had eventually talked about his and his brother's secret pet Icarus, but when their dad had left them Icarus he'd been big enough to be on his own for most of the day. But now Icarus was so big and took care of himself, he lived in a cave a ways from their house and he and Gohan just visited and played with him. The dragon was more of a friend than a pet now.

Unfortunately for Norbert, even if Hogwarts was in a fairly secluded forested area, it was still a school filled with hundreds of students next to a small village. The village, Hogsmeade was the only all wizard settlement in Britain and a dragon flying around the hills would undoubtedly be noticed and cause a panic that could end in Norbert being killed by the Ministry as a dangerous creature.

Harry had suggested sending little Norbert, who wasn't quite so little as he had grown to three times his size in the week since he'd hatched, to Gohan. But Harry had quickly realized that until Norbert was bigger Gohan would have to spend too much time taking care of him to keep it a secret from their mother, who would never allow even a pet to keep Gohan away from his studies that long.

"It's really too bad we can't send him to you're brother," Ron mumbled petulantly. He seemed to think that Harry's brother was the best option they had come up with so far.

"My brother…" Harry racked his brain for some way that would allow them to send Norbert to Gohan before it was too late. "Charlie!" Harry exclaimed

"That's my brother not your's" Ron looked at Harry like he was going bonkers.

"Exactly! Don't you see?" Harry said excitedly.

"What about Ron's brother?" Hermione interrupted. She didn't like being left out of the loop.

"He's a dragon keeper in Romania, but…" Ron started to explain, but Harry interrupted him.

"See, Hagrid," Harry smiled at his enormous friend, "Charlie could look after Norbert for you."

"That's great," Hermione agreed, but Hagrid didn't look very pleased.

"Oh, Hagrid," Harry reached over and did his best to wrap an arm around one Hagrid's massive arms in a comforting way. "We can't take him right away. We have to owl Charlie to see if he can do it. And Norbert will have to be a bit bigger before he can travel all the way to Romania won't he?"

Marble size tears glistened around Hagrid's eyes only to be shaken off his face when Hagrid blew his nose loudly into an enormous handkerchief. "I always knew I'd have ter give him up, but I never thought it'd be so sad." Hagrid wiped his nose and eyes.

"I know Hagrid," Harry rubbed the forlorn man's arm. "I wish he could stay here with you forever too, but there's no place where Norbert can fly without some one seeing and getting him hurt. We'd have to try and stop him from flying and I could never take that away from anyone." Harry looked despondent over the very thought of never being able to fly again.

"Yer right 'Arry," Hagrid was staring intently at Norbert when answered. "Norbert deserves the skies and if Charlie can give that ter 'em than tha's exactly where he'll go. It's jus'," Hagrid sniffled loudly and grabbed Harry into a hug that might have injured someone weaker than Harry. "I never thought it woul' hurt so much."

Once they left Hagrid's they decided that despite the delay it might make sending Harry's homework back home they needed an owl they could be sure wasn't being tracked by anything, so they sent Hedwig with their request to Charlie. They spent the next week on pins and needles waiting for Charlie's response. Harry made sure that he spent as much time as he could spare playing with Norbert and being there with Hagrid who was distraught over the loss of his precious baby. Even with all the homework and approaching finals Harry made it over to Hagrid's hut most every night. And when he couldn't he made sure that at least one of them was there for Hagrid every night.

Hermione wasn't pleased with the amount of study time Harry was missing to visit Hagrid. And one Wednesday night after everyone else had left the common room she told him so.

"Hermione, I won't ever willingly let my friends down," Harry explained gently. "Hagrid is hurting so I'm going to help him as much as I can. I believe in doing what's right even when it makes things more difficult for me. I'll find a way…"

Harry was interrupted when the portrait hole opened up and a grimacing Ron removed Harry's invisibility cloak. Norbert had bitten his hand while he had been feeding him crate loads of dead rats and now it was wrapped up in one of Hagrid's giant handkerchiefs.

"It bit me!" Ron ranted. "I'm not going to be able to hold a quill for a week. I tell you, that dragon's the most horrible animal I've ever met, but the way Hagrid goes on about it, you'd think it was a fluffy little bunny rabbit."

"That's because to Hagrid it is," Harry responded.

By the look on Ron and even Hermione's face they definitely didn't agree.

"Well do you think that a kitten would be a cute pet?" Harry asked.

Hermione's face immediately softened thinking about how loveable and cute a kitten would be, but Ron wanted to argue. "Yah, but a kitten doesn't have a giant mouth full of teeth so sharp that they could bite your hand off."

"Maybe not to you," Harry replied. "But I bet Scabbers would think that a kitten was pretty horrible. Especially when it got bigger and Scabbers started looking like a good meal."

Hermione seemed to understand, but Ron didn't look convinced. Harry would have explained more, but Hedwig had returned with Charlie's response and was tapping at the window. Without a word Harry went to the window and let Hedwig in, taking the letter she was carrying and stroking her feathers affectionately.

Their arguments forgotten the three of them crowded around the letter:

Dear Ron,

How are you? Thanks for the letter – I'd be glad to take the Norwegian Ridgeback, but it won't be easy getting him here. I think the best thing will be to send him over with some friends of mine who are coming to visit me next week. Trouble is, they mustn't be seen carrying an illegal dragon.

Could you get the Ridgeback up the tallest tower at midnight on Saturday? They can meet you there and take him away while it's still dark.

Send me an answer as soon as possible.

Love,

Charlie

"You recon the cloak will cover the two of us and Norbert?" Ron asked, obviously excited at the prospect of getting rid of the dragon.

Unfortunately things didn't go as well as Ron would have liked. By the time he'd woken up the next morning his hand had doubled in size. He tried to ignore it but by mid day it had turned a sickening green color and they didn't dare ignore it no matter what the chances were that Madam Pomfrey would be able to tell what it was.

Harry would have liked to see Ron immediately, but didn't think they'd be able to get out of class. So He and Hermione visited him as soon as their classes were over. It seemed that classes however hadn't kept Malfoy from showing up to taunt their friend.

"I shouldn't have hit him at the match," Ron moaned. "That's why he's doing this."

"I don't know," Harry replied. "From what I heard he deserved it. And we can try and figure out a way to teach him not to pick on people after this is all over Saturday at midnight.

Ron shut up in his bed at Harry's words. "Saturday at midnight," Ron said a little more loudly than Harry would like. "Oh no, oh no…Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey that he needed to borrow a book so he stole one, and it was the one that had the letter from Charlie in it!"

Suddenly there was a loud slam that interrupted anything else Ron might have said. Ron and Hermione looked toward the noise to see the Hospital wing's door slam back closed. That was when they noticed that Harry had disappeared.

The bang however had attracted Madam Pomfrey. "What is all this noise about?" the Matron glared at Ron and Hermione before looking around the room for their missing friend. "Tell Mister Potter that if he cannot use the doors like a civilized person he'll not be allowed back in the hospital wing." The matron huffed and was about to leave.

"He was just in a hurry, he said he had to really use the bathroom," Ron tried to give an excuse.

"I'm sure it won't happen again," Hermione added.

"Just remind him to be quiet in the hospital wing, sick people need their rest," the anger had left the matron's voice as she turned around and returned to her office.

They didn't have to wait as long as they would have expected. Just a few minutes after Madam Pomfrey had returned to her office Harry returned, walking sedately through the door.

"Did you get it back? Had he read it?" Ron asked eagerly.

"No," Harry sighed. "I think he was in his common room. I followed him, but all I found were stone walls."

"Wait a minute," Hermione said. "How could you have followed Malfoy, and if you did how could you not tell were the entrance to his common room was."

"I can sense a person's energy, remember?" Harry whispered. "Unfortunately I've been around Malfoy enough in class that I can recognize the scummy feel to his aura. I followed that, but no matter where I moved I couldn't find an entrance."

"Well our common room is hidden, why wouldn't theirs be?" Hermione asked reasonably.

"That's just it," Harry replied. "There were no portraits, no suits of armor and the tapestries didn't have anything behind them. It's hidden even better than ours and if he's gotten the letter into his common room it's probably too late anyway."

"That's it," Ron waived his hands in despair. "We're done for."

"Well it's too late to change anything now," Hermione declared. "We can't get another letter to Charlie in time. Besides we've got the invisibility cloak. Malfoy doesn't know about that."

"That's right," Harry tried to reassure Ron. "And I've got a couple of tricks of my own."

Ron wasn't convinced and when Saturday rolled around he was still in the hospital wing, so Harry and Hermione went down to Hagrid's hut alone. Harry had tried to convince her that he was strong enough to carry the dragon on his own, but Hermione had insisted that she go with him to help.

It had been the first time they'd gone back since they told Hagrid about Charlie's letter the Thursday before. Norbert was getting a bit rough so Hagrid didn't let them come back to help with him. Hagrid said it was just a stage and he was being playful. Harry thought he was starting to get too big to be cooped up in even Hagrid's giant sized hut.

They got to the hut late, because they had to wait for Peeves to get out of the entrance hall before they could open the door. The poltergeist was playing tennis against the wall until Harry finally got tired of it and levitated the ball, bouncing it rapidly around the hall and then down an upstairs corridor as hard as he could. Peeves left yelling and chasing after the ball.

"That was brilliant Harry," Hermione whispered once they got halfway across the lawn.

"It was nothing," Harry replied.

Hagrid was outside his hut patting a large crate with growling and scratching sounds coming from it. "He's got lots o' rats an' some brandy fer the journey," Hagrid managed to say through his tears. "An' I've packed his teddy bear in case he gets lonely."

Harry felt sorry for Hagrid, so he tried not to laugh when the sounds of tearing cloth escaped the cloth just after Hagrid had mentioned the teddy bear that Harry suspected had just been destroyed.

"Bye-bye, Norbert!" Hagrid sobbed, as Harry and Hermione threw the invisibility cloak over the crate and climbed underneath it too. "Mommy will never forget you!" Hagrid called after his baby dragon as Harry and Hermione hefted it and began moving back toward the school.

At first Hermione insisted on helping Harry carry it, but as they began to climb the second flight of stairs she gave in and let Harry carry it on his shoulder as she moved under the cloak as close to him as she could.

They made it through the school easily after that until they came to the corridor underneath the tallest tower. Two figures seemed to be struggling in the darkness ahead of them. Harry was about to put the crate down and stop the fight when a lamp turned on.

Professor McGonagall dressed only in a bathrobe with her hair in a net had Malfoy by the ear. "Detention and twenty points from Slytherin! Wandering around in the middle of the night, how dare you…?" Professor McGonagall looked furious with Malfoy.

"You don't understand, Professor. Harry Potter's coming–he's got a dragon!" Malfoy cried and for once Harry was glad at how incredible his adventures tended to be.

"What utter rubbish! How dare you tell such lies! Come on, I shall see Professor Snape about you, Malfoy!"

Harry tried not to laugh as Professor McGonagall dragged Mafloy away by the ear. It would be bad to give his location away right now.

Careful to stay under the cloak, Harry and Hermione rushed up the stairs as soon as Professor McGonagall was out of site. Once at the top Hermione threw off the cloak and kicked up her feet in a short happy dance.

"Malfoy's got detention, I could sing," she said happily.

"Better wait until we get back unless you want us to join him," Harry replied quietly.

They had to wait several long minutes before Charlie's friends arrived. They were somewhat outlandish at least by wizarding standards. His mother would have probably thought they looked like hooligans. But they were definitely friendly

They came in on brooms and after brief introductions Harry and Hermione strapped Norbert's crate to the harness that Charlie's friends had rigged between their brooms.

After a bit of ribbing about what a strong boy Harry was Charlie's friends flew of, taking Norbert over the horizon. Harry and Hermione felt light now that that burden had been taken off their shoulders. And Malfoy was in detention. Hermione practically skipped down the stairs.

When they got to the bottom they nearly ran into a dark figure. Filch's face loomed over them. "Well, well, well," he leered, "we are in trouble."

Harry berated himself as Filch led them through the castle. How could he have been so stupid as to leave his invisibility cloak in the tower? It had belonged to his birth father! He'd been so relieved that he'd forgotten that they weren't safe until they got back and he hadn't even sensed Filch coming. He was turning out to be helpless without Mr. Piccolo to tell him what to do.

Determined to prove he could take care of himself, Harry marched boldly into McGonagall's office. She wasn't there, Filch told them to stay while he went to get her. Harry was half tempted to go back to his dorms, but didn't knowing that he'd just get in more trouble. And he didn't want to abandon Hermione.

When McGonagall returned she was leading Neville Longbottom into the room. "Harry!" Neville called. "I was trying to find you to warn you, I heard Malfoy saying he was going to catch you, he said you had a drag…"

"Shhh!" Harry sent telepathically into Neville's mind. He wasn't sure it would work on a non-martial artist, but it apparently did, because Neville stopped.

McGonagall however looked furious. Harry had only seen his mother look like that when someone had tried to hurt him or Gohan.

"I would never have believed it of any of you. Mr. Filch says you were up in the astronomy tower. It's one o'clock in the morning. Explain yourselves." McGonagall demanded.

Harry didn't know what to say. He couldn't mention anything about Hagrid or the dragon, so he silently stared McGonagall in the eye. Hermione however stared at the professor's slippered feet. It was the first time Harry had ever seen her not answered a teacher's question.

"I think I've got a good idea of what's been going on," Professor McGonagall started to pace in front of them. "It doesn't take a genius to work it out. You fed Draco Malfoy some cock-and-bull story about a dragon, trying to get him out of bed and into trouble. I've already caught him. I suppose you think it's funny that Longbottom here heard the story and believed it, too?"

"What?!" Harry yelled scaring Neville who jerked back and started to cry. Even Professor McGonagall missed a step. "You immediately side with a known bully over people who you are supposed to be standing up for and who have risked their lives to protect the students of this school. I am nothing like Malfoy. I do not bully people and especially not my friends."

"Oh," McGonagall looked like she had caught him at something. "And what about Mr. Malfoy and Mr. Longbottom."

"I would be honored to call Neville Longbottom my friend," Harry replied. "I have nothing but respect for any man as brave as him."

McGonagall looked shocked at Harry's words so he continued. "During the last Quidditch match Neville attacked two people he knew he couldn't defeat to keep them from beating up someone. He ended up unconscious in the hospital wing when he could have let them beat up someone else. I respect that kind of courage."

Professor McGonagall was shocked and so was Neville. No one had ever considered him brave before. Neville Longbottom's eyes were red and swollen from the crying, but he stood taller now than Harry had ever seen him stand.

"As for Malfoy," Harry continued. "When Ron hurt his hand Malfoy decided to skip class to taunt him. Malfoy told Madam Pomfrey that he needed to borrow a book from Ron to get in so he stole one of his books when he left. Apparently Ron left a letter from one of his brothers in that book that told him we would have to be out late tonight. And apparently Malfoy wanted to make sure someone found us, because the last time he tried to trick us into being out late Filch didn't catch us like he planned."

"And what do you think gave you the right to be out this late?" Professor McGonagall asked acidly.

"There was something more important than the school rules, so I willfully broke them. Punish me for being out late if you want, I wouldn't have done it if I wasn't willing to accept the consequences, but don't you ever accuse me of acting like that that coward Malfoy!"

Minerva McGonagall would later be very impressed by Mr. Potter's courage and conviction in not only accepting his punishment but looking her in the eye. When she asked if he spoke for all of them neither Mr. Longbottom nor Miss Granger looked up at her as they nodded. But she was not impressed right now. She was furious.

"All right then, Detention!" Professor McGonagall all but snarled. "…for all three of you. Yes, you too, Mr. Longbottom, nothing gives you the right to walk around school at night, especially these days, it's very dangerous. And you, Miss Granger, I thought you had more sense. As for you, Mr. Potter…" McGonagall shook her head unable to find words to express herself through her anger.

"And fifty points will be taken from Gryffindor," She added sternly.

"Fifty?" Hermione squeaked.

"Apiece," McGonagall added.

Hermione and Neville looked away abashedly. But Harry stood still, silently meeting Professor McGonagall's eyes.

Professor McGonagall ordered them back to their dorms. Harry watched Hermione and Neville walk dejectedly. They didn't say a word to each other. Harry thought about reminding Hermione that she didn't have to come with him tonight, but he thought that at the moment that would be more like rubbing it in than comforting her.

When they got to their dorms Harry could tell Neville was restless and unable to sleep. Harry was sure that the anger he was radiating through his ki due to Professor McGonagall's accusations wasn't helping. Eventually they got to sleep. But the next day Harry learned what Neville had been nervous about.

Most of Gryffindor had been shocked when they'd walked past the giant hourglass that recorded their house points to see that they had 150 less. But word quickly got around that Harry Potter and a couple of his first-year friends had lost them.

People that had been chasing him through the halls to catch a glimpse of him now despised him. People that had congratulated him for his quidditch victories openly mocked him. And it wasn't even just the Gryffindors, the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws had wanted to see Slytherin fall nearly as badly and were now openly hostile.

The only people whose opinion of him didn't seem to change were the Slytherens, except they were even more open in their mocking. On the way to breakfast he'd passed a group of them that had openly cheered for him thanking for his help toward their seemingly immanent victory with the house cup.

At least Ron stood by him. But the same could not be said of all the Weasleys. Perfect Percy stopped Harry and Ron outside the great hall on their way to dinner that day to scold them. "How could you be so irresponsible?" he asked. "How do you expect to ever become a prefect? Don't you know you're a role model? Don't you care about Gryffindor?"

Maybe if Percy had accosted him on a normal day or after he'd started to get used to the treatment he was receiving from the students and even a couple of teachers. But Harry had endured a horrible day where the few students who would talk to him had openly mocked and berated him. Even a couple of professors had looked down on him disappointedly. Fortunately he hadn't had to endure potions class or Filch might have spent his evening scraping Percy off the floor.

"No," Harry said loudly but then began to yell furiously. "If Gryffindor is filled with cowards who care more about appearances than protecting those they are supposed to protect and punish them without seeking the truth just to get ahead, than I have no respect at all for Gryffindor!"

Harry's words carried to probably many more people than he'd have liked, but he was too angry to care. Without looking back to see if Ron was following Harry stomped off past the Great Hall and ended up down in the kitchens to eat dinner surrounded by people who didn't hate him.

But Harry wasn't the only one to face student body's ire. Neville if it were possible sank even deeper into his shell than ever before. And Hermione stopped answering questions in class unless specifically directed to. She just hunched over her books and tried to keep from being noticed. Harry told her that by not doing anything to earn points she was just letting them slip even further behind. But Hermione just couldn't bring herself to do anything but mope.

After a couple of days of this treatment Harry offered to resign from the team, but Wood refused. "What good'll that do? How are we going to get any points back if we can't win at Quidditch?" he'd asked. But despite Wood's seeming acceptance practices became nearly as torturous as potions. No one on the team would speak with him unless they had to and then never by name.

Having been so sorely punished for his good deed, Harry reevaluated his priorities. He decided that in the end Hagrid had been more important than some school rules and so he tried to bear his punishment and derision with dignity. But he hadn't been asked to protect the sorcerer's stone and it was being watched over by professors who knew far more about magic than he did. And what would it really matter if it was stolen? Snape would be rich and live for as long as it took for someone to steel the stone from him. It was nothing earth shattering or particularly sinister and Snape would probably retire and live in a lap of luxury. Snape could have the stone Harry decided if it would get the greasy haired man out of the school; especially after how vicious he'd been in class lately.

Snape was taking more and more points from Harry for seemingly inane things. He'd been told he was breathing too loudly. Harry asked how he should breathe around the potion and how it affected it and if it should be different for different potions he'd gotten even more points deducted for cheek. The more points he lost, even if it wasn't very many the angrier the students got. Harry wasn't sure if Snape knew this and was trying to prolong his misery or if he was simply trying to make an end of the year push to keep Slytherin in the lead for the house cup.

And the mind attacks were getting worse. Now his attacker, who he was still certain was Snape, would only stay in his mind a few moments after Harry had focused on his painful memory. And Harry was getting good at this. But since the attacker didn't stay he could come back repeatedly throughout the class, especially when he was in the middle of something delicate. Harry left every potions class with phantom pains all over his body and was starting to wonder if that wasn't Snape's intent. He just hoped that the potions professor was too.

His resolution was sorely tested weeks later when he was passing a classroom and heard Professor Quirrell's voice. "No…no…not again, please," he begged but a moment later agreed. "All right…all right…" the man sobbed.

Harry barely avoided the door when the man hurried out. The defense professor was straightening his turban and looked to have been crying. Harry hated to see people bullied. On instinct he opened up his senses and rushed into the room, but the room was empty and he couldn't sense anyone nearby. There was another door on the far side left open, but if someone else had been in the room they must have gotten away fast or be able to hide their presence from him. Both thoughts disturbed him.

When Harry told Ron and Hermione what had happened, the consensus was that Snape must have finally gotten to Quirrell. After briefly discussing it Hermione wanted to go to Dumbledore. It was what they should have done ages ago she told them.

"I McGonagall won't believe us over Malfoy than Dumbledore's definitely not going to take our word over one of the teachers," Harry answered.

"But what if we…" Ron interjected.

"No," Harry cut him off. "The stone is guarded by competent witches and wizards acknowledged as some of the best in their field. It's their responsibility let them do it. What's the worst that could happen if Snape got it anyway? He floods the gold market? At least it'll get him out of here." With that Harry opened up one of his books and began reading.

The next morning Harry, Hermione and Neville each got notes that read:

_Your detention will take place at eleven o'clock tonight. Meet Mr. Filch in the entrance hall._

_Professor McGonagall_

Harry thought it was ironic that the detention looked like it would keep them out after curfew. He was half tempted to complain, but decided he was just being petulant and he refused to do anything other than accept his punishment with dignity. Hagrid was worth it he told himself.

When 11 o'clock rolled around Harry, Hermione, Neville and Malfoy, who Harry had forgotten even had a detention, were escorted by Filch out of the castle. As usual Filch threatened them with the usual punishments. He was a fountain of knowledge about medieval European torture techniques.

"Oh yes, He muttered excitedly. "Hard work and pain are the best teachers if you ask me... It's just a pity they let the old punishments die out... hang you by your wrists from the ceiling for a few days, I've got the chains still in my office, keep 'em well oiled in case they're ever needed... Right, off we go, and don't think of running off, now, it'll be worse for you if you do."

Harry was trying to ignore the grouchy caretaker, but as excited as he sounded Harry was worried that their punishment was going to be exceptionally bad. It made Harry nervous. Neville was kept sniffing, apparently doing his best not to cry. Hermione looked dejected while Malfoy did his best to act aloof.

Clouds moved across the moon shadowing them in darkness, but just up ahead Harry could see the lights in Hagrid's hut.

"Is that you, Filch? Hurry up, I want ter get started."

Harry recognized that voice. It was Hagrid. Detention with Hagrid might be fun. He must have grinned, because Filch started scolding again. "I suppose you think you'll be enjoying yourself with that oaf? Well, think again, boy! It's into the forest you're going and I'm much mistaken if you'll all come out in one piece."

Neville moaned and Malfoy stiffened fearfully. Harry laughed out loud. He'd wanted to explore the forbidden forest since he'd heard about it.

Everyone looked at Harry incredulously. "But Harry," Hermione began. "It's off limits…"

"We can't go in there you fool!" Malfoy interrupted. "There are werewolves in there!"

Everyone watched Harry cautiously as he looked up at the moon. "Sounds like fun," he smiled broadly when he looked back down and began to shuck off his robe leaving him wearing a pair of dark pants with a sleeveless shirt. A flick of his wrist and is wand jumped from his robe pocket to his hand and he slipped into his cloth wrapped belt behind his back where it would be out of his way, but he could get to it easily.

"Harry," Hermione sounded scandalized.

But before she could lecture Harry on his manners Hagrid appeared out of the gloom. "Abou' time, I bin waitin' fer half an hour already. All right, Harry, Hermione?" Hagrid smiled down at his young friends.

"Shouldn't be too friendly to them, Hagrid," Filch said, scowling, "they're here to be punished, after all."

"That's why yer late, is it?" Hagrid asked, frowning down at Filch. "Bin lecturin' them, eh? 'Snot your place ter do that. Yeh've done yer bit, I'll take over from here." Hagrid looked about ready to shoo the caretaker away.

"I'll be back at dawn," Filch said as he turned around. "For what's left of them," he added theatrically. Harry just laughed again. It seemed to have the double effect of upsetting Filch and scaring Malfoy.

Malfoy turned to face Hagrid. "I'm not going in there," he said quickly.

Hagrid told him that he was or he was going to be expelled. Harry thought it was great to see Hagrid pushing Malfoy around for a change after all the problems Malfoy had made for Harry's giant friend.

After leading them up to the edge of the forest Hagrid knelt down and pointed at a dark, thick silvery liquid splattered on some trees and the ground. It was unicorns blood the gamekeeper informed them. Something had been killing unicorns and it looked like it had struck again. Hagrid believed that it might have been still alive and they were going to have to find it and most likely put it out of its misery.

They split into two groups. Neville and Malfoy went one way and Hagrid took Harry and Hermione the other. They agreed to send up green sparks when they found the unicorn and red if there was trouble. Hagrid made them practice before they finally went into the forest.

After following the trail for a few minutes Harry decided to ask, "Hagrid, do you think could be attacking the unicorns?"

"Don' rightly know Harry," Hagrid replied. "Unicorns are incredibly fast, not many things tha could catch one. And they're powerful magical creatures. Tell the truth, I never knew one ter be hurt before."

"A werewolf couldn't have done it than?" Harry asked.

"Nah, too slow," Hagrid dismissed.

"Are there even any werewolves in the forest you reckon?"

Hagrid started to answer but stopped when he heard something. "Get behind that tree," He yelled and grabbed them when they hesitated and set them behind a large oak tree.

"Stay there," he told them as he fitted an arrow in the crossbow he'd brought. The giant man stood protectively in front of Harry and Hermione brandishing a crossbow that Harry thought might have been considered a siege engine before Hagrid had acquired it.

Harry listened carefully, but could only hear what sounded like cloth being dragged over the leaves and grass. Reaching out with his senses Harry felt Hermione and Hagrid's comforting energies along with Neville and Malfoy's deeper in the forest and scores of weak powers all over the forest some benevolent or benign and others were vicious. But one was disgustingly evil and foul. Harry had felt energies that were filled with terrifying power and killing intent, but this one was different. Its taint wasn't from it's murderous intent or lust for power, there was something filthy about it that he'd never felt before.

Whatever it was, it was definitely magical. It had almost no living energy, but it was one of the most powerful magical presences he'd ever felt. But the magic felt diseased or rotten in a way he'd never encountered and he didn't really want to encounter again.

"I knew it" Hagrid growled to himself. "There's summat in here that shouldn' be."

"Should we follow it?" Harry whispered.

"Can't," Hagrid replied.

"I can," Harry said.

"How?" Hagrid whispered guardedly.

"I can sense it," Harry whispered.

"Better stick to the path an' find that unicorn," Hagrid decided

"All right," Harry agreed readily. He was very used to following other people in dangerous situations. "We can go now."

"Right, follow me, but careful, now." Hagrid motioned them on. From there they crept slowly down the path. Harry kept his senses open tracking the dark presence as it moved away and paying attention for anything else that might cross their path.

"Someone's coming," Harry whispered just before they saw a rustling in the trees in front of them.

Hagrid yelled, ordering whoever it was to come out where they could see them. What stepped out was a being unlike any Harry had ever seen. With the upper body of a man, the centaur was a horse from the waist down. He had a red beard and hair, which matched the shiny chestnut coat on his lower body and shiny red tail.

Hagrid recognized him and looked to be relieved. "Oh, it's you Ronan, how are yeh?"

The Centaur's voice was deep, but sounded sad when he greeted Hagrid. "Where you going to shoot me?" he asked.

"Nah," Hagrid's voice was friendly. "There's sumat loose in the forest, jus' bein' careful."

"This is Harry Potter an' Hermione Granger, by the way." Hagrid introduced them. "Students up at the school. An' this is Ronan, you two. He's a centaur."

"We'd noticed," said Hermione faintly. Harry wasn't certain in the light, but it looked like Hermione was blushing at the cetaur's bare chest.

"Good evening," Ronan said graciously. "Students, are you? And do you learn much, up at the school?"

Harry didn't know what to say to that. Hermione answered for them. "A bit," she said timidly.

"A bit. Well, that's something." Ronan smiled sadly before looking forlornly at the sky. "Mars is bright tonight."

"Yeah," Hagrid glanced up too, but he didn't seem to see what Ronan saw. "Listen, I'm glad we've run inter yeh, Ronan, 'cause there's a unicorn bin hurt—you seen anythin'?"

Harry noticed Ronan's shoulders and neck tensing as if he were gazing more intently at the stars in search of Hagrid's answer. "Always the innocent are the first victims. So it has been for ages past, so it is now."

To Harry it sounded as if Ronan could give them the wisdom of the stars, but Hagrid seemed less impressed. "Yeah, but have yeh seen anythin', Ronan? Anythin' unusual?"

"Mars is bright tonight," Ronan repeated, making Hagrid visibly impatient "Unusually bright."

Before Hagrid could try to coax more information from Ronan Harry spoke up. "Excuse me Ronan sir, have you seen anything that could help us protect the innocent? Do you know anything about what has been attacking the unicorns?"

Ronan took a few moments to respond before he simply told them that the forest hid many secrets. Harry was about to try again when another centaur entered their clearing. Hagrid knew this one as well. His name was Bane and like Ronan all he seemed to be able to tell them was that Mars was bright.

After a fruitless conversation and a request for the centaurs to tell them if they saw anything Hagrid led them away. "Never, try an' get a straight answer out of a centaur." Hagrid told them once they were out of sight of the centaurs. He sounded annoyed. "Ruddy stargazers. Not interested in anything closer'n the moon."

"Are there many of them in here?" Hermione asked.

"Oh, a fair few... Keep themselves to themselves mostly, but they're good enough about turnin' up if ever I want a word. They're deep, mind, centaurs... they know things... jus' don' let on much."

Harry wondered if they were allowed to. To him it seemed that the centaurs had acted like they needed to be careful about how much they said.

They kept looking, following the trail deeper into the forest. Harry had lost track of the corrupted presence, but he could feel it was out there somewhere. He was trying to locate it again when he felt Neville's energy ripple.

"Trouble," Harry said as he looked toward where he could sense Neville and Malfoy. There were red sparks.

"You two wait here! Stay on the path, I'll come back for yeh!" Hagrid yelled as he barreled through the underbrush.

Harry considered following, he could get to his friends much faster than Hagrid could. But he didn't want to leave Hermione alone. Neville and Malfoy's energy hadn't been weakened, so they didn't seem to be hurt. Harry decided to wait until one of their energies weakened before he flew to them.

In the end it was just as well that he'd stayed. It was a false alarm. Malfoy had snuck up on Neville and scared him. Neville looked a little shaken up still, but Hagrid was furious.

"We'll be lucky ter catch anythin'; now, with the racket you two were makin'. Right, we're changin' groups. Neville, you stay with me an' Hermione, Harry, you go with Fang an' this idiot." Hagrid leaned over to whisper at him, "I'm sorry, but he'll have a harder time frightenin' you, an' we've gotta get this done."

"Don't worry Hagrid," Harry winked at him.

With a little reluctance Malfoy led the way back to the other trail, but once they were there he dropped to the back. Harry did his best to follow the trails with his eyes while trying to sense for anything that could be a dying unicorn or the dark presence from before. He was in charge now. Hagrid trusted him and Harry didn't want to mess up again.

Malfoy however wasn't helping his concentration. Harry managed to stop his taunting by asking about any werewolves he'd seen earlier that night.

"We didn't find any, you didn't see any did you?" Malfoy had tried to act casual, but Harry could tell he was afraid.

"No," Harry smirked to himself. "Unfortunately not, but we ran across this weird thing that sounded like it was a cloak being dragged on the ground rustling through the trees."

Unfortunately that hadn't kept Malfoy quiet, but he was no longer trying to bother Harry. The boy kept talking about everything he'd heard about lethifolds, which wasn't much, but he knew they were cloaks that floated on the ground and wrapped themselves around their victims absorbing them.

Harry had a lot of fun scaring Malfoy as they searched. He eventually had Malfoy talking about every terrible monster he'd ever heard of.

Harry was about to stop before they went into the clearing to avoid the filthy energy he had detected coming close to them when he saw it. "Look," Harry pointed at a slightly glowing white horse, which lay sprawled on the ground. Its slender legs pointed at odd angles and on the top of its delicate head it had a single golden horn.

It was dying. Harry could barely feel any energy coming from it. It was probably the saddest thing Harry had ever seen. He couldn't stop the tears that came to his eyes just looking at it.

Harry wanted to rush to the dying animal to try and help it, give it some of his energy, anything, but the corrupt energy was almost on top of them.

Then suddenly it floated into the clearing. Whatever it was it wore a cloak and had bony clawed hands. Harry couldn't see what its head looked like, because it was under a hood. It glided along the ground and began to drink from the dying unicorn's still bleeding side.

Malfoy screamed like a girl and ran, as did fang. But Harry was furious and began to scream as he raised his power level in preparation to attack the unicorn's enemy.

The noise attracted the hooded figure's attention and it turned its head to face them. Harry didn't see its face because pain erupted over his forehead. His scream became a strangled noise as Harry felt like his scar had been lit on fire.

Harry's power dropped, as he staggered back. The hooded figure stood up and began to move toward Harry who was quickly being blinded by pain. Behind him Harry could hear galloping hooves. Reaching toward the advancing figure Harry fired several blasts of white energy toward where he sensed the vile energy.

Something leapt over Harry's head and landed in front of him with a clatter of hooves and the pain in Harry's head faded.

It still took a few moments for Harry to see clearly and when he did he saw another centaur. His body was golden with bright white hair on his head and main. He looked younger than the others Harry had seen.

"Are you all right?" the centaur asked as Harry steadied himself on his feet.

"Yeah, thanks." Harry replied slightly breathlessly. "What was that?"

Like before this centaur didn't answer. But he wasn't looking up at the sky. Harry could see the centaurs shimmering blue eyes as it looked over Harry and rested on his forehead. His scar was bright red and irritated.

"You are the Potter boy," the centaur finally spoke startling Harry. He didn't know his fame extended beyond human witches and wizards. "You had better get back to Hagrid. The forest is not safe at this time—especially for you. Can you ride? It will be quicker this way."

Harry was about to protest, but the centaur began to lower itself down so Harry could climb on "My name is Firenze," he said

Just as Harry had given in and was easing himself onto the centaur's back two more centaurs came charging into the clearing. It was the same two he'd run into earlier.

"Firenze!" Bane thundered furiously. Harry thought his name suited him. "What are you doing? Are you letting a _Human_ on your back? Have you no shame? Are you a common mule?"

"Do you realize who this is?" Firenze asked more calmly, though Harry could tell he was agitated. "This is the Potter boy. The quicker he leaves this forest, the better."

"What have you been telling him?" growled Bane. "Remember, Firenze, we are sworn not to set ourselves against the heavens. Have we not read what is to come in the movements of the planets?"

"I'm sure he did what he thought was best," Ronan said dejectedly as Harry began to ease himself back off the younger centaur.

Ronan's words made bane angry and he kicked out his back feet. "For the best! What is that to do with us? Centaurs are concerned with what has been foretold! It is not our business to run around like donkeys after stray humans in our forest!"

But it seemed that Ronan's words infuriated Firenze, who reared up on his hind legs. Harry leapt of his back before he could be thrown and spun himself into a ball for a moment before landing a tree branch. It looked a lot more impressive than it was. Harry had flown a little to nudge his course through the air.

"Do you not see that unicorn?" Firenze bellowed. "Do you not understand why it was killed? Or have the planets not let you in on that secret? I set myself against what is lurking in this forest, Bane, yes, with humans alongside me if I must."

That clicked with Harry. "What?!" he yelled from up in the tree. "You mean to tell me that you refuse to oppose any evil you see in the stars?!"

"Do not seek to counsel you're elders foal!" Bane yelled at him angrily.

"Humans are not taught as our foals are Bane, you cannot expect him to understand," Ronan tried to appease his seemingly short-tempered companion. Then he turned to Harry. "It is not possible to change what has been decreed by the heavens. And it is unwise to try young one," The centaur tried to sound consoling, but it just made Harry angrier.

"What does can and can not have to do with should and should not?" Harry asked angrily as he jumped down. "Have the heavens never shifted? Did they change before October 31st ten years ago or after? How about early last year did they portend destruction then or did they foretell my brother's victory?"

Bane reared up angrily, "I told you…" But bane stopped as Harry stared at him stonily and silently raised his power making his violent intent known. It seemed Bane recognized the universal signal for 'I'm going to kick you butt.'

"If you are all such cowards then I have no use for you," Harry said disgustedly, as he began to walk away from the clearing toward were he sensed Hagrid.

"It takes courage to accept one's fate," Ronan called sadly at Harry's retreating form.

"But it takes more courage to protect those you love with your life," Harry called back. "We still call the first type cowards."

Harry's movements were tense. He couldn't believe a whole race could be so fatalistic that they would just give in to evil like that. Well it seemed that at least Firenze was willing to fight for what was right. He'd need to not base his beliefs about a whole race by the actions of a few if he didn't want to become a bigot.

It was thoughts of Firenze that made him notice that the centaur was following him moving agitatedly through the brush.

"It would be faster if you rode," Firenze stopped when he noticed Harry was looking at him.

"I can run fast enough," Harry said cryptically.

"There is still danger. It would be faster if carried you," Firenze repeated and began to lower himself.

"But it would be fastest if I carried you," Harry smirked and began to run through the forest.

Firenze was very impressed when he had a hard time keeping up with the Potter boy. He could tell that Harry was actually holding back.

After a fair distance Firenze slowed down and Harry stopped to let him catch up.

"Harry Potter, do you know what Unicorn's blood is used for?" The centaur asked when he caught up.

"No," Harry replied, surprised by the question. "We've used their horns and tail hair in potions so far."

"That is because it is a monstrous thing, to slay a unicorn," Firenze said sagely. Harry believed it. He'd felt terrible just looking at the dying unicorn. He didn't think he could ever bring himself to kill one. "Only one who has nothing to lose, and everything to gain, would commit such a crime. The blood of a unicorn will keep you alive, even if you are an inch from death, but at a terrible price. You have slain something pure and defenseless to save yourself, and you will have but a half-life, a cursed life, from the moment the blood touches your lips."

Harry paused taking it all in before he spoke. "But who would be willing to do such a thing then," Harry asked confused. "Death isn't that bad."

"Perhaps not," Firenze odded, "unless all you need is to stay alive long enough to drink something else—something that will bring you back to full strength and power—something that will mean you can never die. Mr. Potter, do you know what is hidden in the school at this very moment?"

Harry stood very still until he suddenly jerked with understanding. "The Sorcerers' Stone," he said quietly. "But who…?" Harry was confused. Snape didn't look sick.

"Can you think of nobody who has waited many years to return to power, who has clung to life, awaiting their chance?"

When put that way Harry could think of someone who had clung to life. He remembered Hagrid sitting on the couch in his mother's living room. "Some say he died. Codswallop, in my opinion… Most of us reckon he's still out there somewhere but lost his powers. Too weak to carry on."

Just the thought of his biological parent's murderer stirred an anger deep in his soul. He stood there silently as his hair billowed in the wind.

"Harry! Harry, are you all right?" Harry was brought out of his reverie by Hermione's call. She was running down the path with Hagrid behind her.

"I'm fine," Harry called. "The unicorn's over that way," Harry pointed toward where he'd come from. He reached out with his senses to see if he could feel it and couldn't. "I think it's dead now."

"This is where I leave you," Firenze spoke quietly as Hagrid hustled off to check on the unicorn. "You are safe now."

"Good luck, Harry Potter," Firenze said as he walked away. "The planets have been read wrongly before now, even by centaurs. I hope this is one of those times."

When they finally got back to the common room they found Ron asleep in one of the chairs. Neville went straight up to bed and Harry woke Ron, who muttered something bout Quidditch fouls.

Once he was awake Harry told both him and Hermione about the centaurs and Voldemort. "This changes everything," Harry said. "Snape wants the stone for Voldemort. That makes more sense. And Voldemort is out in the forest waiting."

"Stop saying that name," Ron begged fearfully."

Harry however refused to be afraid of the man let alone his name. "Bane was furious...he was talking about interfering with what the planets say is going to happen... They must show that Voldemort's coming back...No wait! That coward thought Voldemort was going to kill me tonight!" Harry was incensed. "I won't go down that easily."

They spent much of the rest of the night talking about what they could do, but they were at as much of an impasse as they were before. So with nothing they could do unless they could catch Snape or Voldemort in the act they went to bed.

But the night had one more surprise for Harry. When he opened the curtains on his bed, which he didn't remember closing, he found his invisibility cloak folded neatly on the bed. There was a note on top written in the same loopy handwriting. It read:

_Just in case._


	8. A Killer Test

**Harry Potter Z: And the Sorcerer's Stone **

See Chapter 1 and if anyone charges you to read this slip them a forgetfulness potion.

* * *

Chapter 8: A Killer Test

* * *

Harry expected Voldemort to make his move on the stone the next day and it wasn't until exams started that he realized how foolish that was. If Voldemort hadn't gone after the stone yet, it had to be because he was waiting on something or preparing in some way. The fact that Harry had just discovered it was him wouldn't affect that. 

Unfortunately, without knowing where Voldemort was or when he was going to attack Harry didn't know what he could do. So he did what he had always done, he trained. He no longer let studying take over his mornings, he trained over the forbidden forest hoping to catch a glimpse of Voldemort. He practiced focusing on his remembered pain while still moving about normally and searched for Voldemort's distinctive energy as much as he could between studying for the imminent end of year tests.

He even spent the last night before the tests meditating on his bed searching for Voldemort. After a lot of work he was able to sense the filthy feeling of Voldemort's magical power, but it seemed cloaked and indistinct. No matter how hard Harry tried and how he relaxed his mind he just couldn't locate it.

Surprisingly no one interrupted his meditation that night. Not even Hermione had come up to insist he study. Harry learned on his way up to the shower after training the next morning that she had actually explained to most everyone what he was doing and insisted that no one disturb him. At least she'd explained what meditation was and why she thought he was doing it.

They took their written tests all together in a swelteringly hot room. They were each given anti-cheat quills that Harry wondered how they prevented cheating. Not that he would cheat. Not only would his mother be furious, but he didn't trust anyone to know the material as well as he did and didn't want to copy their mistakes.

They had practical tests as well. Flitwick took them into a room one at a time to see if they could charm a pineapple to tap-dance. McGonagall did the same thing only she wanted them to transfigure a rat into a snuffbox. She gave extra points if it was particularly pretty. Harry made his shiny gold with the kanji for health engraved in it.

Through it all Harry did his best to ignore the sharp burning pains from his scar. The first time he'd faced Voldemort just being near him had caused incredible pain in that scar catching him by surprise and nearly crippling him. Now Harry was determined to be able to withstand the pain and fight his birth parent's murderer effectively the next time they met. He looked at the tests as a way to train for that rematch, which he was secretly itching for.

Potions was an exceptionally tough practical exam. They all bent over their cauldrons silently trying to brew a forgetfulness potion while Snape breathed down their necks. No one dared say anything in front of him and fortunately Snape was completely quiet as well. But he seemed to be more vindictive about probing Harry's mind than ever. If he hadn't been ecstatic about the practice he was getting Harry might have been furious that the potions professor attacked him during the finals.

Their last exam was History of Magic. After an hour of answering questions about famous wizard inventors and politicians Harry was happy to place his quill down and roll up his test and he cheered with all of the rest of the students happy to be done with their exams.

Harry, Ron and Hermione fled the testing room immediately and joined the throng of students escaping the castle to laze about in the sun. Like usual Hermione wanted to go over the exam once they were done. Ron begged off claiming it would make him sick. Harry was just happy to see that Hermione was back to being herself. She hadn't wanted to review any of the exams since they started; she just immediately rushed off to study. It seemed that now that the end of year tests were over she was willing to relax, at least as much as she ever relaxed.

They were heading down toward the lake where Fred, George and their friend Lee Jordan were tickling one of the tentacles of the giant squid, which was sunning itself in the shallow portion of the lake.

Harry's lightning-bolt scar hurt again. He was ignoring it as best he could, but now that exams were over he didn't have them to concentrate on so he was reminded about Voldemort. Ron, who had stretched himself out on the grass muttering about no more studying, must have noticed, because he spoke up. "You could look more cheerful you know, Harry, we have a whole week before they tell us how bad we did."

"I'm not worried about that," Harry groused. He was confident in his performance on the tests despite the distraction his scar had provided. "I'm more worried about Voldemort waiting to steal the stone until after we leave. I probably won't know about anything that's happening in the wizarding world until I come back next year."

"Don't worry Harry," Ron said calmly. It was too hot for him to worry about anything other the nap he felt coming on. "You were right. Flamel asked Dumbledore to guard the stone, because he's the greatest wizard alive, Snape won't try anything with Dumbledore around. Besides he probably still hasn't found away around Fluffy. After his first try, I bet he won't be trying again until he has that figured out."

"I don't know," Harry said warily. "I just knew what exactly makes my scar hurt like this. Is it because Voldemort's nearby, is he attacking me? I just get the feeling that he's up to something."

"Well he can be up to something all he wants, but until he can get Hagrid to tell him how to get past Fluffy we're all safe." Ron declared happily and yawned. "Do you reckon that your muggle-dueling stuff would let you get past Fluffy?"

"You mean my Martial-Arts?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Ron said sleepily, yawning again.

"Of course," Harry replied. "It would be pretty easy."

Hermione stood stiffly, too shocked to move. Ron who was beginning to drift off just smiled. "Yeah, just what you'd expect from someone who had a dragon for a pet," he said sleepily.

"Well he's not much of a pet anymore…" Harry trailed off. "I can't believe I missed it," Harry shouted. "Dragons! Come on we've got to talk to Hagrid."

Harry began to drag his friends toward Hagrid's hut. Hermione was still a little stiff, uncertain of what was going on and Ron was about as coordinated as a sack of potatoes having just been jarred out of his nearly sleeping state. Harry didn't seem to notice as he dragged both of them with him.

"Harry!" Hermione yelled as soon as she got her feet under her and could run behind Harry, but Harry didn't seem to answer. "Harry, what did you miss?"

She was louder that time and this time Harry answered her. "Don't you think it's suspicious that Hagrid has always wanted a dragon and someone just happened to have an egg with them even though they're illegal?"

"But Hagrid wouldn't…" Hermione couldn't believe that Hagrid would ever betray Dumbledore.

"Not on purpose I'm sure," Harry replied.

Ron just looked confused up until they found Hagrid sitting outside his house shelling peas. It was an impressive sight to see someone with such large hands deftly handling such small things.

It wasn't long before they'd gotten Hagrid to tell them the whole story about how he had gotten Norbert. The three students had been suspicious that the person that had given him the egg wouldn't let his cloak down, but Hagrid assured them that the Hog's Head where he had been was a very disreputable place and that was common for there. They'd played cards and the stranger had gotten Hagrid more and more drinks, but before he would part with the egg he had insisted Hagrid tell him about what creatures he'd taken care of. The shady character claimed he didn't want to give the egg to someone who couldn't take care of it. So Hagrid had confided in him that he'd taken care of a large three headed dog and didn't think a dragon would be a problem and eventually told the stranger that the secret to taking care any creature was knowing how to calm them which for Fluffy only required playing a bit of music and the giant dog would fall asleep.

Hagrid realized his mistake as soon as he'd told them, but Harry, Ron and Hermione had taken off running toward the school before he could do or say anything. The three of them rushed back into the castle intent on warning Dumbledore of the impending danger without even thinking about the fact that none of them had any idea where Dumbledore's office was.

They were stopped in a Hallway trying to figure out how they were going to find the head master when a stern voice asked them, "What are you three doing inside?"

Professor McGonagall was looking at them sternly over a pile of books in her arms.

"Please, professor," Hermione said sweetly. "We're looking for Professor Dumbledore."

"Looking for Professor Dumbledore," Professor McGonagall repeated, apparently not convinced. "Why?"

"We need to talk to him," Harry said.

"Professor Dumbledore received an urgent owl for the Ministry of Magic and flew off for London ten minutes ago."

When Professor McGonagall told him Dumbledore was gone, Harry suddenly realized what Voldemort was waiting for. He was so distracted he barely registered Professor McGonagall telling them that they could tell her whatever they needed to tell Dumbledore.

"Do you have a way of contacting him, Professor?" Harry asked quickly

"I told you Mr. Potter that you can tell me anything you need to tell the headmaster. I am your head of house." Professor McGonagall bristled.

"You need to contact him and tell him he needs to come back immediately," Harry commanded.

"I do, do I?" Professor McGonagall asked archly. "I suppose that you have something to say that is more important than the Ministry of Magic?"

"Who do you think I am, some schoolyard bully?" Harry asked angrily and Professor McGonagall winced. "Of course I have something to say that's more important than self self-aggrandizing, stuck-up bureaucrat that spills red ink whenever he realizes that he was never competent to do his job!"

"Well if it's so important you can't tell me then you'll have to wait and tell him tomorrow when he gets back," Professor McGonagall huffed.

Harry looked like he was trying to decide how to answer Professor McGonagall's last remark. But after a couple of moments he just started to walk off looking disappointed.

However, Hermione was not willing to give up so easily. "Please Professor, It's about the Philosopher's Stone," Hermione begged.

Professor McGonagall made a sound that sounded like the air being let out of a tire and dropped the books she was carrying. "How did you…" she spluttered.

"Professor, You-Know-Who is going to try and steal it, tonight," Hermione declared.

"I don't know how you found out about the Stone, but rest assured, no one can possibly steal it, it's too well protected."

"But Professor," Hermione said desperately. "He already knows how to get past…"

"Ms. Granger, I know what I'm talking about," McGonagall snapped, interrupting. "I suggest you all go back outside and enjoy the sunshine." She then bent down and began to gather up her books, showing clearly that she considered the conversation over.

Ron and Hermione didn't go outside. With a bit of running that fortunately none of the professors saw they caught up with Harry.

"Why didn't you stay and help us convince her?" Hermione demanded. "That was important and you just gave up!"

"Because I knew she wouldn't listen to us," Harry sighed. "And I didn't want to listen to her make up some degrading story about us and take away points so no one could accuse her of playing favorites."

"She wouldn't do that," Ron replied.

"Funny," Harry turned on Ron. "I seem to remember she accused us of bullying Neville and Malfoy even though Malfoy admitted to trying to get us in trouble and I told her exactly how found out what we were doing. Then she took 50 points from us each as opposed to the 20 she took from Malfoy."

Ron looked abashed. When you put it that way, apparently she would. Hermione also held her tongue. She hadn't realized that Harry was still so upset at Professor McGonagall. He hadn't mentioned it since he'd yelled at Percy the day after it happened.

"So," Harry turned back to Hermione after the silence had gotten uncomfortable. "What did she accuse us of?"

"What?" Hermione asked.

"How did Professor McGonagall say about us knowing about the stone?" Harry asked.

"She just said it was well protected," Hermione said uneasily.

Harry sighed, bracing himself. "How many points did we loose?"

"She didn't take any points," Ron interjected.

"Detention then?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione answered. "She just told us to go outside."

Harry looked thoughtful at this. Hermione might have said something else, but they almost bumped into Snape as they turned the corner.

"Good afternoon," he said smoothly. His tone of voice made Harry feel as greasy as the man's hair. "You shouldn't be inside on a day like this," the Potions Professor smiled crookedly, as if he knew something they didn't.

"I was just going to get my flute," Harry replied. It was oddly enough the truth.

"Oh," Snape smirked. He didn't believe him for a second.

"Yeah, a friend made it for me, but I haven't had time to learn how to play it. And it seems like I'm going to need to know how." Harry smirked, please with himself. Snape wasn't the only one who knew things he shouldn't.

"You want to be more careful," Snape said. "Hanging around like this, people will think you're up to something. And Gryffindor really can't afford to lose any more points, can it?"

Harry frowned at the threat and began to walk back toward the dorms, Hermione and Ron following him. But Professor Snape wasn't through with them.

"Be warned, Potter," Snape called. "Any more nighttime wanderings and I will personally make sure you are expelled."

Harry turned back and decided to really throw down the gauntlet. "If you catch me in the halls tonight you won't be in any position to expel anyone." And with that he left ignoring the potions master.

Once they were in the common room Harry moved to go up to the boy's dorm and get his flute, but Ron stopped him. "Look Harry," he said. "We need to tail Snape and figure out a plan for how we're going to expose him when he goes after the stone. I think Hermione should try and watch Snape outside the Staff Room."

"Why me?" Hermione asked surprised.

But before Ron could answer Harry cut in. "That won't be necessary Ron."

"But Hermione can just say she was waiting for Professor Flitwick or one of the other Professors to ask about the tests. She always does, no one will suspect anything."

"We don't need to tail him," Harry said. "I can track him from here."

"How?" Ron and Hermione both asked.

"I told you I could sense people's magical energy right?" Ron and Hermione nodded at Harry. "Well, I'll be able to tell if anyone tries to get by Fluffy."

"Then how do we get to a teacher once they do?" Ron asked.

"We don't," Harry replied. "They won't believe us. Tonight I'm going to get past Fluffy and I'll be waiting for them. If they beat me to it, I'll just go in after them."

"You're mad!" Ron yelled.

"You Can't!" Hermione was just as loud. "You'll be expelled! Didn't you see how angry Professor McGonagall was? Didn't you hear what Professor Snape said? You're lucky he didn't take a million points for talking back to him like that!"

"So?" Harry yelled back. Fortunately the common room was empty with everyone outside. "I'm not doing this to win points for Gryffindor. I don't care about Gryffindor or being expelled. This is more important than that. If Voldemort get's his hands on that stone then things will be back to the way there were. Have you ever heard what it was like when he was terrorizing the world? People were scared to leave their homes and when they did leave they were scared that they'd find their family dead when they came back. My life is not so precious that I'm willing to live it knowing that I had a chance to stop that from happening again and did nothing."

"You're right," Hermione said meekly. "I'm sorry," her voice was even quieter.

"It's ok," Harry patted her on the shoulder. "I better start practicing with my flute. Hagrid would be sad if I hurt Fluffy."

"And I better start looking through my books," Hermione added. "There might be something useful,"

"It's alright Hermione," Harry told her. "I can do this by myself."

"No Harry, you were right. This is far more important than school," Hermine said then smirked at him. "Besides, worrying about Voldemort would really cut into my study time next year."

"Then I guess we'd better use the invisibility cloak. We don't want the teachers to stop us" Ron suggested.

"Look you two, you don't have to do this," Harry told them.

"Yeah, we do," Ron replied. "My life isn't so valuable either that I'd…Well I'm no good with words, but I'm not going to let you go alone."

"And wondering if anything I knew could have helped you isn't going to be good for my study-time either," Hermione said before turning and heading up the stairs

Harry sat there stunned for a moment, but he couldn't not let them come. Maybe he should learn to stop using such inspiring words. But he didn't have time to contemplate that. He needed to figure out how to play that flute.

The common room was filled with the off key sound of Harry's experimentation. By the time Dinner came around and students started coming back in Harry thought he could play something that he hoped would put Fluffy to sleep. He couldn't make it sound quite like what he imagined, but he found that by just concentrating on using rising and descending tones he could make a melancholy sounding melody.

After dinner the three of them sat alone in one corner of the common room. Hermione flipped desperately through her notes looking for anything that might help them get through the enchantments guarding the stone while Harry meditated extending his senses toward Fluffy's corridor.

Harry was about to tell Ron and Hermione that they were going to have to sneak out when Lee Jordan finally headed off to bed. Without prompting Harry went up to his dorm to grab his invisibility cloak and throw off his robes. Underneath Harry was wearing the bright Red fighting gi of the Turtle Hermit School with Piccolo's symbol on the back. He had asked Mr. Piccolo to transfigure his broken saiyan armor into the same thing Piccolo had given him in Yonzabit heights. It's what he wore to the cell games. Harry found it funny that he now thought of what Mr. Piccolo had done in terms of the magic he was learning. He would have to talk to Mr. Piccolo about it when he got back.

Slipping his wand behind his back into his belt Harry carried his flute and the invisibility cloak down the stairs. He was telling Ron and Hermione to get under the cloak when a voice from one of the corners of the common room interrupted.

"What are you doing?" Neville stepped out from behind one of the arm chairs. He was holding Trevor, his pet frog tightly in his hands.

Harry just looked Neville in the eyes while Ron stammered out a denial.

But Neville could see the guilty look in Ron's face. "You're going out again," he accused.

"Yes," Harry said over Hermione's no. "Someone found a way past the three headed dog in the third floor corridor. They're going to steal what he's guarding now that Dumbledore's gone."

"You can't go out," Neville sounded almost pleading, "You'll be caught again. Gryffindor will be in even more trouble."

"Then help us." Of all the things Harry could have said no one expected that. Ron and Hermione just looked at Harry shocked. It took a couple of moments before Neville recovered from the shocked, but then he screwed up his face and it looked like he was working up the nerve to do something.

"I won't let you do it," he said and jumped in front of the portrait hole. "I-I-I'll fight you." Neville raised his fists.

"Don't be an idiot Neville," Ron shouted.

"Don't you call me an idiot!" Neville shouted back.

"Ron," Harry snapped before Ron could retort. "He's right, don't call him an idiot. He's just doing what he believes is right. We should respect that."

"But this is important," Ron said.

Ignoring him, Harry turned to Neville. "I want you to know that I respect your bravery and conviction, but I'm sorry, I can't let you stop us this time." Harry crouched down into a fighting stance with his hands curled up into claws in front of him. "I hope we can still be friends after this," Harry said mournfully. "I will tell you everything when we get back if you want."

Before Harry could move to attack he heard Hermione's voice incant, "Petrificus Totalus," and a flash of light passed by him striking Neville. The spell made his legs snap together and glued his arms to his sides. Now as stiff as a board Neville wobbled and fell flat on his face.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked Hermione who was already rushing over to Neville to turn him over.

"Oh, Neville, I'm so sorry," Hermione said, ignoring her violent friend.

"Why did you do that, Hermione?" Harry complained. "He deserved…"

"Deserved to be beat up?" Hermione hissed.

"No, the chance to prove he was brave enough to stay and fight for what he believed," Harry explained.

"Are you crazy?" Ron whispered. "You punched out a mountain troll. What were you going to do to Neville?"

"I wasn't going to hit him that hard," Harry said.

Neville's eyes were wide in shock and fear. Under Hermione's full body bind spell they were the only things he could moved. His jaw was locked shut so all he could do was make small squeaking noises.

"I think he'd proven that he was going to stay and fight well enough," Hermoine said reprovingly. "And he won't need to spend any time in the hospital wing this way. Now let's go."

Hermione apologized to Neville again and got up to leave out the portrait hole. Ron followed her with a quick "Sorry, mate," to Neville as he stepped over him.

"I hope that next time we can fight on the same side," Harry told Neville and then stepped out of the common room.

"We've got to hurry, whoever is after the stone is already ten minutes ahead of us." Harry told them as he threw his invisibility cloak over Ron and Hermione.

"But what about you?" Hermione's voice flittered through the air.

"I don't need a cloak to become invisible," Harry answered as his body faded from view.

"Harry, how did you…" Hermione's voice asked.

"No time to explain now, we've got to Hurry. Let's go." Harry's voice was coming from ahead of them, so Ron nudged Hermione to move forward.

"Harry? Where are you?" Ron asked after a few steps.

"Just ahead of you," his voice answered.

"But how will we stay together?" Hermione asked

"Don't worry, I'll be close. Don't worry, I can sense you," Harry replied.

But it was hard for Ron and Hermione not to worry, but they were glad they had when they ran across Peeves. They had just escaped past Filch's cat, Mrs. Norris when they found the poltergeist blocking the way at the top of a flight of stairs.

"Who's there?" Peeves called, squinting as he searched for them. "Know you're there, even if I can't see you. Are you ghoulie or ghostie or wee student beastie?"

Peeves floated up and searched some more, several times looking right at them. "Should call Filch, I should, if something's a'creeping around unseen."

Harry didn't have a lot of patience. They were already behind the thief he sensed. So Harry decided to find out if apparitions were immune to living energy. He formed a small blue-white ball of energy at the end of his fingertip. He made it as weak as he could. He didn't want to hurt the poltergeist too badly or damage the walls if it passed through him.

The glowing ball of light was the only thing the poltergeist could see. Not knowing what it was Peeves leaned in close to examine it. Harry was tempted to flick it between the apparition's eyes, but he didn't know what it would do so he aimed it at one of Peeves' legs and fired.

The small ball of light hit Peeves' leg and exploded leaving no visible sign of damage but Peeve's wailed anyway not used to anything being able to touch or hurt him. "What are you?" the poltergeist asked fearfully.

In answer Harry made a much large ball of light over his palm while concentrating as hard as he could on staying invisible. Peeves pointed his finger at the light threateningly and was about to start berating the glowing ball of energy when it emitted several more flashes striking the poltergeist. Peeves fled over the rail screaming about the monstrous demon that had attacked him.

Ron and Hermione stood gob-smacked until they heard Harry's voice from up ahead urging them on. A few seconds later they caught up to him at the door to Fluffy's corridor. Harry was visible and standing next to the open door.

"If you want to stop here you can go back," Harry told them. Behind him Fluffy was sniffing and growling. He couldn't see them outside the door, but he could smell them apparently.

"Don't be stupid," Ron said.

"We're coming with you," Hermione's firm almost growling tone of voice reminded him once again of his mother.

So, after nodding to his friends Harry pulled out his flute and began to play his melancholy melody. After a few seconds the growling and sniffling noises slowed and stopped. Harry stepped through the door in time to see the giant dog lying down and drifting off to sleep.

Hermione noticed a harp lying at the giant dog's feet that hadn't been there the first time they'd been there. Ron presumed Snape left it behind after getting past the dog.

The stench of the dog's breath filled their noses as they approached the trap door. Ron yanked it open. It was so dark down the hole that they couldn't see the bottom. And there was no way down, no stairs or ladder or rope or anything else they could use to descend safely down the shadowy depths.

While Ron and Hermione were still discussing how to get down Harry stopped playing and grabbed his friends around the waist. Then without further warning he jumped down the hole carrying his friends.

Hermione screamed and Ron cursed, both gripped Harry tightly. The fall was so long that the two managed to come to their senses before Harry used a burst of his ki to slow their fall and set them down gently on the spongy ground.

"Are you trying to get us killed mate?" Ron yelled.

"Harry," Hermione was breathless. "How did you…?" Hermione suddenly screamed and jumped back to the wall of the dark stone chamber they were in.

Ron and Harry looked at her as if she had gone mental. "What?" They asked.

"What?" Hermione screamed outraged. "Look at you!"

Harry looked down to see that the spongy floor was actually a huge plant with thousands of tangled vines that were slowly rapping themselves around him and Ron. Not wanting to find out what the plant would do to him after it pulled him down Harry pulled himself free, snapping the vines that had wrapped around him and jumped to the stone ledge Hermione was standing on. When he landed he saw Ron still being held by the vines and being pulled down on his knees

"Stop moving!" Hermione ordered. "I know what this is–it's Devil's Snare!"

"Oh, I'm so glad we know what it's called, that's a great help," Ron snarled as he continued to try and break free from the vines.

"Shut up, I'm trying to remember how to kill it!" Hermione shouted. 'Devil's Snare, Devil's Snare... what did Professor Sprout say…? It likes the dark and the damp!"

"Everyone close you're eyes!" Harry yelled as he placed his hands, fingers splayed beside his face. "Now!"

"Solar Flare!" Harry's voice was accompanied by a massive flash of light that Ron and Hermione could see through their eyelids. Ron felt the vines loosen around him, dropping him on his hands and knees, but he only managed to crawl a few feet before the vines started to wrap themselves around him again.

"Hermione, light a fire," Harry ordered.

"Yes…Of Course!" Hermione yelled, but suddenly panicked. "But there's no wood!"

Harry didn't wait anymore and began using a tightly focused beam of his energy from his palm to try cut through the vines and hopefully light them on fire. But the plant wouldn't light.

"HAVE YOU GONE MAD?" Ron screamed. "ARE YOU A WITCH OR NOT?"

"Oh right," Hermione said blankly then whipped out her wand, muttered an incantation while waving it and sprayed a jet of blue flames around Ron. The plant immediately began to writhe and back away from the heat and light of the flames until finally Ron was able to sprint to the ledge next to Harry and Hermione.

"It's lucky you pay better attention in Herbology than I did Hermione," Harry said. "I don't think I even remember Professor Sprout even mentioning devil's snare."

"Yeah, and lucky Harry doesn't lose his head in a crisis…'there's no wood,' honestly," Ron muttered.

Holding his palm up, Harry formed a glowing ball of ki above his hand. Now able to see clearly Harry pointed toward the only exit, a tunnel. "This way," Harry said. He led them down a large stone tunnel until they came to a brightly lit chamber with a door at the end. The room had several brooms propped up on one side and it was filled with a swarm of shiny winged objects.

"Reckon they'll attack," Ron asked.

"Maybe," Harry before he ran toward the door, disappearing from Ron's view and appearing by the door. The flying objects didn't move, but the door was locked.

Harry tried to twist the handle, but it wouldn't budge even under his strength. Yelling he raised his power level, making his red uniform flutter for a second, and punched the door, trying to break it down. Splinters flaked off where Harry had hit the door, but with an incredible electric popping sound Harry was blasted back across the room and into the wall. His body made a squeaking sound as he slowly slid down the polished stone wall.

"Harry, are you all right?" Hermione squealed as she ran toward him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," Harry stood up and dusted himself off. Ron and Hermione stared at him slack jawed for a moment.

"Well, let's see how it likes this," Harry smirked and squatted down holding both his hands in front of him.

"Wait," Hermione yelled. "These birds must be here for a reason."

Harry lost his concentration. "They're not birds, their…" Harry looked up because he wasn't sure exactly what they were.

"Their keys," Ron shouted excitedly.

"We have to catch one," Hermione looked over at the brooms to the side, "but which one?"

"We're looking for a big, old-fashioned one…probably silver, like the handle," Ron said after looking at the door.

Figuring that he could still try to blow the door down later Harry grinned walked over to the brooms. Mounting one he shot straight up into the air. The flying keys flew away from him, but that wouldn't keep them from the youngest seeker in a century. Harry flew after them, diving into the middle of the swarm and scattering them all every which way.

Harry flew around the room at break neck speed until he finally spotted a large silver key with rumpled blue wings. It looked like it had been caught before. Speeding after it and barely avoiding two collisions with the wall Harry caught it and swooped down to the door next to his cheering friends.

Not wanting his friends to be zapped, Harry put the key in the lock himself. It worked; with a loud click the unlocked and the key flew off. Harry thought it looked angry with its feathers so ruffled.

The next room was pitch-black until they stepped into it. Then with a dazzling flash the room was filled with light revealing a larger than life size chess set. They stood just behind the black pieces.

Under Ron's direction they took the places of three of the black pieces. Harry a bishop, Hermione a rook and Ron took the place of a knight atop its black steed. Like normal wizard chess the game was brutal. The first victim was their other knight. The white queen smashed him onto the marble floor and dragged him off the board.

The queen took several more pieces from the board and a couple of times nearly took Harry and Hermione, but Ron came to the rescue each time. Moving all over the board on the knight's horse he took just as many defeated just as many pieces as the white queen had.

Being on the board with the pieces suddenly made chess come alive to Harry. Strangely, Harry could see things in the thick of things with the other pieces that he had never been able to from above them. It was all just a big fight. Harry thought he could see Ron's overall strategy. With his new understanding Harry wanted to try and help, but trusting Ron, kept silent.

Then Harry saw it. He could tell Ron had been contemplating the move for a while now. If Ron moved forward and to the right, he would put the king in check and the queen would have to take him and Harry could move to checkmate the king.

"Don't do it," Harry said.

"I have to," Ron seemed to steel himself for the task ahead.

"Have to what?" Hermione asked worriedly.

"If I let the queen take me, Harry will be able to checkmate the king," Ron replied. His voice was serene and Harry could tell that he had accepted the possible consequences of his actions.

"No," Hermione yelled.

"We can find another way," Harry said.

"Maybe, but we have to catch up to Snape," Ron said. "We don't have time."

"Wait, I can beat all the pieces at once," Harry said desperately. "We don't have to play by the rules. I can fight our way through."

But Ron's mind was made up. "Don't hang around once you've won," Ron said as he moved forward to meet his fate.

The queen didn't waste a moment once Ron had stopped moving. She knocked Ron right off the stone horse. But Harry didn't wait for her to drag Ron away and immediately ran to checkmate the king.

The white king bowed in defeat and threw his stone crown at Harry's feet. The other pieces bowed and scooted out of the way creating a path to the door to the next chamber.

Looking over at Ron, Harry could see him still breathing and feel his energy. Relieved, but still angry Harry stalked toward the door with Hermione on his heels.

"What if he's…" Hermione couldn't bring herself to say it.

"He's alive," Harry said through clenched teeth. Hermione could tell that he was worried. "And if anything happens to him I'll know."

After a short walk down another corridor they came to another door. Once they opened it they were assaulted by a terribly foul stench. And lying in the middle of the room was its source. A mountain troll even larger than the one Harry had defeated in the bathroom lie unconscious on the ground with blood matted on its head around an angry red bump on its bald head. Harry was upset; he could have used a good fight right at the moment.

The next room looked innocuous enough until they stepped in and a wall of purple flame rose up in the door way they had come in. There were black flames in the one in front. And in the middle was a table with seven glass vials on it along with a roll of parchment with their only clue to how to escape the locked room. The parchment read:

Danger lies before you, while safety lies behind,

Two of us will help you, which ever you would find,

One among us seven will let you move ahead,

Another will transport the drinker back instead,

Two among our number hold only nettle wine,

Three of us are killers, waiting bidden in line.

Choose, unless you wish to stay here forevermore,

To help you in your choice, we give you these clues four:

First, however slyly the poison tries to hide

You will always find some on nettle wine's left side;

Second, different are those who stand at either end,

But if you would move onward, neither is your friend;

Third, as you see clearly, all are different size,

Neither dwarf nor giant holds death in their insides;

Fourth, the second left and the second on the right

Are twins once you taste them, though different at first sight.

Hermione thought it was a brilliant strategy. Even with just their short stay in the wizarding world it was obvious that a great deal of wizards didn't have an ounce of logic in them at all, so this puzzle would stop them cold. But if it was Snape he sensed just ahead of them and this was indeed his trap, he'd have known exactly what potion to use.

Harry was sure he could solve the logic puzzle, but let Hermione do it. He trusted her and while she was solving the puzzle Harry was considering how to get past this trap. He was considering blasting a hole through the wall or over the door when Hermione announced she'd solved the puzzle.

The only problem was that there was barely even a swallow left of the potion they needed. Harry was about to offer to try and blast through, but stopped himself. "Hermione, do you know which potion will take you back?"

Hermione pointed at a round bottle at the right end of the line of potions.

"Take that one," Harry ordered. "If the troll is awake levitate its club and hit him or use your fire spell. Get Ron and use one of the brooms from the key room to fly back through the trap door. You should be able to get past Fluffy on the broom, but if you can't take this." Harry handed Hermione the flute. "Send Hedwig to Dumbledore and let him know what's happened and tell the teachers. If whoever's in there manages to get past me he'll be pretty banged up."

Hermione's lip trembled and she glomped onto Harry wrapping him tightly in her arms.

"It's all right," Harry said lightly squeezing her back. "I'm a warrior; I've been trained to fight since I was five years old. I won't loose easily."

"Harry," Hermione said uneasily, "You're a great wizard, you know."

"I don't know," Harry said dryly. "I don't seem to trust my magic. I'm going to have to learn to use it with my other skills. Ever since we got down here I've just used my energy. You and Ron figured out how to get past the door with the keys when I was about to try and blast it. Ron got us through the chess room when I just wanted to fight my way through it. And you solved this room's puzzle while I was trying to figure out where to put the new door."

Hermione giggled for a moment before stepping back. "Oh do be careful," she begged.

Harry smiled at her. "Don't worry. All I'll be doing in the next room is fighting, and I'm good at that. Now go and get Ron."

Hermione took a swallow from her bottle and shivered.

"All you all right," Harry asked.

"It's cold," she said.

"Then go before it wears off…Now!" Harry finally convinced Hermione to leave him. He took a moment to calm his mind before swallowing the last of his potion. Just like Hermione had said he felt cold, like ice water was running through his veins. Harry stepped through the fire. Like at platform nine and three quarters for a moment he couldn't see anything but the fire, but another step and he was in the final chamber with the person whose strange energy he'd been unable to recognize. And disappointingly it wasn't Snape or even Voldemort.

It was the last person he would have expected. Professor Quirrell stood examining a very familiar mirror in the middle of the chamber.

"I should have known," Harry said drawing Quirrell's attention.

"Oh," Quirrell said calmly turning toward Harry. "I wondered whether I'd be meeting you here, Potter."

"Really," Harry was surprised by this. "It was easy to figure out that whoever was after the stone would come her now that Dumbledore was gone, but how did you know I'd follow?"

"You're too nosy to live, Potter. Scurrying around the school on Halloween like that, for all I knew you'd seen me coming to look at what was guarding the Stone."

"I only saw Snape," Harry said while stalking around the room.

"Oh, and you thought he was after the stone," Quirrell sounded amused. "Yes, Severus does seem the type, doesn't he? So useful to have him swooping around like an overgrown bat. Next to him, who would suspect p-p-poor, st-stuttering P-Professor Quirrell?"

"His attacking me didn't help his establish his innocence," Harry responded

"No, no, no. I tried to kill you. Your friend Miss Granger accidentally knocked me over as she rushed to hex Snape at that Quidditch match. She broke my eye contact with you. Another few seconds and I'd have got you off that broom. I'd have managed it before then if Snape hadn't been muttering a countercurse, trying to save you."

"You do realize the fall wouldn't have bothered me right?" Harry grinned smugly.

"Don't worry, I won't be so easy on you this time," Quirrell snarled and snapped his fingers and ropes leapt out of the air at Harry. Harry stepped gently to the side easily in time to avoid the ropes, but they swung out and started to wrap around him. "Now, wait quietly, Potter. I need to examine this interesting mirror."

Quirrell turned back to the mirror and began muttering, completely ignoring Harry. Berating himself for being surprised by the ropes, Harry tested their strength. He stopped when he could feel them start to give without him needing to use more than a small fraction of his power. If Quirrell was willing to so easily dismiss him there was no need to let the professor know the magnitude of the mistake he was making until it was time to act.

Harry sat up casually, as if he didn't even notice the ropes wrapped around him. Before he acted he needed to know as much as he could and the whole situation with Snape was still bothering him.

"Then why did Snape act like he hated me?" Harry asked, still trying to get a grip on Snape's behavior.

"Oh he hates you," Quirrell still seemed distracted. "He was at Hogwarts with your father, didn't you know? They loathed each other. But he never wanted you dead. Why do you think he wanted to referee your second match?"

"I saw Snape threatening you after the match, didn't he want the stone?"

"No," Quirrell responded absently. "He'd been on to me since he caught me checking the stone's defenses on Halloween. He thought he could keep the stone from me. As if he could when I had Lord Voldemort on my side..."

Quirrell's voice faded and Harry could see the mirror working its spell on him entrancing the man with its images. "I see the Stone... I'm presenting it to my master... but where is it?" Quirrell began muttering to himself again.

"Funny," Harry chuckled. "You didn't seem so confident about you're master's protection a few days ago when Snape was threatening you. I heard you sobbing in the class room."

Quirrell jerked and looked scared. Harry suspected it was the first time he'd ever seen real fear on the man's face. "Sometimes," he hiccupped, "I find it hard to follow my master's instructions…he is a great wizard and I am weak…"

"Voldemort was with you…in the school?!" Harry yelled. He was certain he'd have been able to detect Voldemort if he came into the school. The idea that the most feared man in the wizarding world could be walking around the school without Harry sensing it bothered Harry greatly.

"He is with me wherever I go," Quirrell shuddered. "I met him when I traveled around the world. A foolish young man I was then, full of ridiculous ideas about good and evil. Lord Voldemort showed me how wrong I was. There is no good and evil, there is only power and those too weak to seek it..."

Harry laughed interrupting Quirrell's monologue. "You fell for the power speech?" Harry laughed hysterically for a moment. "Look being feared doesn't make you powerful," Harry explained. "And working for a guy that is feared definitely doesn't make _you_ powerful."

"Someone with as little magical training as you couldn't possibly comprehend the things my master showed me," Quirrell seethed.

"Maybe not," Harry admitted, "But power that isn't earned will fail you."

"Ignore the boy, focus on the mirror, he's trying to distract you," a voice shouted out of nowhere. Harry got worried; there was someone in the room that he could neither see or sense.

The voice terrified Quirrell. His eyes took on a crazed look and his face twitched. "Y-y-yes M-m-master," he stuttered. "I don't understand... is the Stone inside the mirror? Should I break it, master?"

"Go ahead," Harry called out, hoping to get a response from the unseen voice. "The mirror's just a distraction."

"The boy knows the mirror, use the boy," the voice sounded desperate and to Harry's shock seemed to be coming from Quirrell himself

"Yes," Quirrell said obediently. "Potter, come here."

Quirrell clapped his hand and the ropes disappeared. Harry casually got up, but it wasn't fast enough for Quirrell. "Come here, look in the mirror and tell me what you see," he yelled.

Hesitantly Harry looked into the mirror. He had wondered what he would see now that he had resolved his problem's accepting both of his families, but now he was worried that whatever it was might cause him even more anguish.

But when he looked into the mirror he didn't see his family or a group of strangers. He just saw himself dressed in his now dusty fighting uniform, just like a normal reflection. Then suddenly his reflection moved on its own. It winked at him and reached into one of his pockets pulling out a redish-orange sphere with a single red star on it and slipping it back in his pocket. And when it did Harry felt the ball drop into his pocket.

Harry was shocked. That wasn't the sorcerer's stone that was the one star dragon ball. Nicholas Flamel must have gathered all seven dragonballs and wished for eternal life and just claimed that he'd invented the sorcerer's stone. For a moment Harry was tempted to let Quirrell have the dragon ball, it was useless without the other six, but he didn't want to clue Voldemort in on another way he could be restored to live, especially while the four star ball was at home with his mum and currently defenseless baby brother. But his shock must have shown on his face. "What did you see," Quirrell demanded.

"I saw a girl," Harry tried to come up with something fast. Harry remembered Sirius' teasing. "She had red hair. And she fought so fiercely…" Harry shuddered at the supposed image. "She moves so gracefully yet viciously…it's the most beautiful…"

"He lies," Harry heard the voice yell again, but this time it was accompanied by the feeling of another presence prying into his mind. By now it was instinctive for Harry to react to mental intrusions by focusing on his painful memory. And when he did Quirrell collapsed to the ground screaming in pain along with the unseen voice.

Harry jumped back, and when the pressure in his mind eased, he released his painful memory. After a few moments of panting on the ground, Quirrell raised himself to his knees. "You were attacking me in potions," Harry accused. "I was so certain that at least was Snape."

"No," the invisible voice said. "If I had done it, I would have been prepared."

"Now, Let me speak to him... face-to-face..." The voice seemed to be talking to Quirrell.

"Master, you are not strong enough!" Quirrell simpered

"I have strength enough... for this..." The voice replied.

Quirrell bowed his head in submission and then began to unwrap his turban. Harry stepped back into a defensive stance, uncertain what was happening. When the wrapping was removed Quirrell's head looked strangely small. Once he turned around Harry could see why.

On the back of Quirrell's bald head was another face, a ghastly visage with glowing red eyes and slits where his nose should be. It spoke and Quirrell's energy started to change becoming more and more filthy feeling, just like Voldemort. "That was impressive, Harry Potter. You're defense against the mind arts was unconventional, but effective. I prize innovation…Join me,"

"You mean tell you how to find the stone," Harry said calmly.

"You know how to get it?" The face who could only be Voldemort sounded desperate and for the second time Harry felt an intruder in his mind.

Harry's response was the same and the face grimaced as Quirrell stumbled and screamed in agony. Quirrell looked to be still recovering when Voldemort spoke again, croaking angrily. "Don't be a fool—give me the stone! Better save your own life and join me! Or you'll meet the same end as your parents... They died begging me for mercy..."

"LIAR!" Harry screamed. Suddenly overcome by an instinctive desire to protect his parent's memory Harry became furious. And as his anger rose he began to call on his power.

"How touching..." Voldemort smiled evilly. "I've always valued bravery too... Yes, boy, your parents were brave... I killed your father first; and he put up a courageous fight... but your mother needn't have died... she was trying to protect you... Now give me the Stone, unless you want her to have died in vain."

"Then take it from me," Harry yelled calling on even more of his power.

"He has the stone," Voldemort yelled.

Before Quirrell could even turn around Harry leapt into the air and punched Voldemort's face. That was when the unexpected happened. A searing pain like in erupted in his scar making Harry feel like his head was being split open. The pain in his scar was more intense by far than it had ever been before. It caused Harry to lose focus and consequentially his power.

Quirrell screamed but only stumbled at the blow. Harry fell to the ground almost falling himself. Before Harry had recovered from the shock and could react his scar erupted again as he felt Quirrell's hands around his neck. He barely heard Quirrell shout, "Where is the stone?" before the pain started.

It took a moment for Harry to push aside the staggering pain despite his practice with his meditation. Quirrell was screaming, "Master, I cannot hold him—my hands—my hands!"

"Then kill him fool," Voldemort commanded.

Harry broke Quirrell's hold and jumped back. Quirrell did as well.

They staggered for a moment trying to push through the pain before Quirrell raised his hands again, presumably for something more fatal. Not waiting for Quirrell's attack Harry ran at him, yelling and raising his power he punched Quirrell.

Even expecting the pain that would accompany striking the possessed man Harry wasn't full ready for the pain. But this time Harry didn't lose all of his power. His punch sent Quirrell across the room.

Despite the pain induced fog the whole thing seemed like it happened in slow motion. Raising his power quickly again Harry sent a blast of energy at Quirrell's body, which was falling toward the ground after bouncing off the wall.

There was a loud crack and Harry was looking up through a blurry tunnel at a stern face crowned by dark Hair. "/Mother/" Harry said in Chinese.

"It's good to have you back with us Mr. Potter," a dry female voice answered in English.

"You're not my mother," Harry said groggily.

"No I'm not," Professor McGonagall said. "I'm surprised you would mistake me for her. You're mother had such beautiful red hair."

"Not, my birth mother, my real mother," Harry said.

"Real mother?"

"Yes, the woman that raised me," Harry took a moment to clarify.

"Oh, I hadn't realized you'd been adopted," McGonagall seemed embarrassed.

"You look a lot like her you know," Harry said. "You even act a bit like her and your stance and your walk is similar. You both walk with power and the efficiency of a fighter, but mother is a martial artist, she's more graceful." Harry didn't know why he was telling her this or even where he was.

"You are in the hospital wing," Professor McGonagall supplied when he started to look around. Harry was lying in a bed with bright white linen sheets next to a table full of cards and sweets.

"The sweets are from your admirers," McGonagall told him. "You even received a toilet seat, which Madam Pomfrey confiscated. I can't prove it, but I'm sure it came from Fred and George Weasley." Professor McGonagall made a show of putting her head in her hands and sighing. "Sometimes I don't know what those two are thinking?"

For some reason Harry wanted to stand up for the two read-heads who, despite their age gap had looked out for him until the point fiasco. "At the train platform their sister was distraught about being left behind. Their mother had been threatening them about blowing up toilets, so they offered to send a Hogwarts toilet seat to their sister to cheer her up." Harry explained. "I appreciate the gesture."

Professor McGonagall looked touched for a moment. Harry suspected that she'd spent a lot of time disciplining the two boys and had never had the chance to see the strength of their compassion, even if they hid it behind more jokes.

"Well their sister is on the books for next year," Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "I will be quite put out if she doesn't make it into Gryffindor."

Harry was a little surprised. He'd never seen this side of his head of house. Looking around he spotted the sweats again. "But I didn't think anyone much cared for me right now," Harry said confused.

"The sorcerer's stone was supposed to be a secret, but after your antics somehow every one knows," Professor McGonagall looked annoyed about the matter. "If it was still being protected here I might be forced to take more points."

"So I missed, he got the stone," Harry seemed to deflate.

"No," McGonagall said quickly, but seemed hesitant to continue. "You shouldn't blame yourself," McGonagall said suddenly. "When you-know-who left Professor Quirrell's body he could no longer survive. But it's not your fault," McGonagall immediately began to say. "If you blame anyone you should blame _him_." McGonagall's tone left no doubt about which him she was referring too.

"No," Harry said. "Quirrell lusted for power, he let Voldemort convince him to forget right and wrong to pursue power. He let Voldemort into his heart before he ever let him into his body. That is why he was destroyed."

Professor McGonagall was impressed at the wisdom in Harry's voice, but she was distinctly uncomfortable discussing the fall of her now dead colleague. So she changed the subject to the first thing that came to mind. "Mr. Potter you really shouldn't use _that_ name," she said reprovingly

"Professor McGonagall, the beginning of wisdom is calling things by their right name," Harry sounded disappointed. "My family has been fighting people like Voldemort for years. People like him live in fear that someone or even everyone together will rise up against them and destroy them. It always happens eventually. It's human nature to fight for freedom. They depend on the power of fear to keep from being destroyed. By fearing to even say his name you are empowering Voldemort. Just by saying his name you weaken him by weakening people's fear of him, even if it's only your own."

Even more uncomfortable Professor McGonagall decided to get to the point of why she came. "I wanted to apologize to you…"

Harry just looked at her expectantly.

"Oh, Harry, I thought I might not get the chance," McGonagall grabbed his arm. It was the biggest display of emotion he'd ever seen from her. "You're right I was unfair to you. I was so angry that you had the audacity to claim that something you might be doing was more important than the school rules. When I calmed down I was very impressed by your courage and willingness to face the consequences of you actions, but I was so angry at the time that I threw it in your face. I'm sorry Mr. Potter it was unfair of me to punish you so severely."

Professor McGonagall's apology was heart-felt, but Harry didn't look satisfied. "Professor, I don't care about the punishment. I was serious when I said I wouldn't have broken the rules if I wasn't willing to face the consequences. But despite Malfoy admitting that he was out that night solely to get us in trouble, bullying us, you accused me and my friends of bullying not only Malfoy, but also Neville. And you refused to listen when I tried to explain what had happened you were so sure we were bullies. I have risked my life twice for the school this year and without any evidence you treated me like a bully. That's what upset me." Harry said.

The more Mr. Potter said the more impressed McGonagall became at the young man. "I'm afraid I've done you a disservice Mr. Potter. I'm sorry I misjudged you."

"Thank you," Harry said.

"Well it seems you've recently passed a very big test of character," Professor McGonagall stood up

"A killer test," Harry agreed

"Nearly dieing is not something to make light of Mr. Potter," McGonagall scolded. "And next time please leave the heroics to the adults." McGonagall tried to sound stern, but Harry thought he could hear the concern in her voice.

"Would Dumbledore have won?" Harry asked as Professor McGonagall started to leave.

"Of course," McGonagall turned around. "Dumbledore is the only one that he…that Voldemort ever feared." With that last statement Professor McGonagall left.

Harry sat there in his bed waiting for someone to tell him how long he had to stay. He had suspected Madam Pomfrey would have talked to him after Professor McGonagall left, but she hadn't. Harry was just getting up to look for her when a voice stopped him.

"Leaving so soon Harry?" It was Dumbledore.

"I was looking for Madam Pompfrey," Harry said.

"You are a better man than I then," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in mirth. "I'm afraid even now I would have been looking to make good my escape."

Harry smiled wickedly. "Oh dear, I appear to be having a bad influence on you." Dumbledore said. "Madam Pomfrey will be upset if I don't remind you that it's important to make sure you allow your body to heal."

"Perhaps you should enjoy some of the sweets your admirers have sent you," Professor Dumbledore gestured to the table Harry covered in sweets." Dumbldore seemed to be trying to distract him from leaving. Harry just smiled at the comedy of it.

"Ah good," Dumbledore's eyes twinkled again. "If Madam Pomfrey found out that I had let you go, I might not be allowed to visit students in the hospital wing of my own school."

"How long have I been in here?" Harry asked.

"Two days," Dumbledore said dryly, the humor gone from his voice. "You gave me quite the scare there, for a while there I thought I was too late."

"But I thought that I…" Harry stopped himself. He wasn't sure if he wanted to explain his abilities to Professor Dumbledore.

But Dumbledore seemed to think that he was concerned over his hand in the fate of Professor Quirrell. "You did indeed defeat him, Harry, but the effort nearly killed you. When I first found you lying on the ground with the stone in your pocket for one terrible moment I thought it had."

"Professor McGonagall said the stone wasn't being kept here any longer, what happened to it?"

"It has been destroyed," Dumbledore said calmly.

"Destroyed?" Harry asked shocked. "Did you see it?"

Harry was apparently louder than he thought, because Dumbledore asked him to calm down. "No I didn't see it. I had a long talk with my friend Nicholas Flamel, the stone's creator. We all agreed that it was best that the stone be destroyed. He assures me that it is gone."

Sagging in his bed, Harry sighed in relief. If Flamel was sticking to his story about the stone and Dumbledore didn't see it destroyed, Flamel probably just got rid of the Dragonball. They were supposed to be indestructible, but they were created by Dende's magic so Harry was worried that they might be able to be destroyed by magic. The Dragonballs had been used too often to help save the world for Harry to allow them to be destroyed.

But another question popped into Harry's mind. "So did the sorcerer's stone make the Flamel's young or did they stay looking older?" Harry wondered if they'd asked for eternal life or just eternal youth.

Dumbledore looked concerned. "To one as young as you, I'm sure it seems incredible, but Nicolas and Perenelle are ready to pass on. To them it really is like going to bed after a very, very long day. After all, to the well-organized mind, death is but the next great adventure. You know, the Stone was really not such a wonderful thing. As much money and life as you could want! The two things most human beings would choose above all. The trouble is, humans do have a knack of choosing precisely those things that are worst for them."

"I know," Harry said. "I do not fear death. I was just curious about exactly how the elixir worked."

"That is good Harry," Dumbledore smiled. He could see that Harry really didn't fear death. "The stone kept them from aging."

Harry smiled. _Good wisher_, Harry thought.

"I understand I have you to thank for convincing Professor McGonagall to use Voldemort's name," Dumbledore continued on. "I've been trying to convince her, and everyone else for that matter, to call him by his name for years. Hopefully she will continue to do so."

Harry smiled back at the headmaster. "I hope so too," he said. "But there are some things I've been trying to figure out, I was wondering if you knew the truth about them."

"The truth is a beautiful and terrible thing," Dumbledore sighed. "It should therefore be treated with great caution. However, I shall answer your questions unless I have a very good reason not to, in which case I beg you'll forgive me. I shall not, of course, lie."

"Do you know why Quirrell and I couldn't touch each other?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore looked up at the ceiling began to stroke his beard thoughtfully. "I know why Quirrell couldn't touch you…your mother died to save you. If there is one thing Voldemort cannot understand, it is love. He didn't realize that love as powerful as your mother's for you leaves its own mark. Not a scar, no visible sign... to have been loved so deeply, even though the person who loved us is gone, will give us some protection forever. It is in your very skin. Quirrell, full of hatred, greed, and ambition, sharing his soul with Voldemort, could not touch you for this reason. It was agony to touch a person marked by something so good."

"But when I touched him, my scar exploded in pain," Harry said angrily. "If it weren't for that Quirrell wouldn't have been a threat at all. That protection nearly got me killed."

"Oh," Dumbledore said archly. "You're quite confident I see." Dumbledore chuckled. "I cannot be certain, there has never been a scar quite like yours that I am aware of. But I suspect it marks a connection between you and Voldemort and when your mother's love reacted to Quirrell's evil touch it reacted to whatever lingers of the magic that Voldemort attempted to use to kill you."

"Is there a way to stop it or get rid of the scar?" Harry asked desperately.

"Alas, none I know of," Dumbledore said sadly.

"Voldemort told me that he didn't want to kill my mother, he only wanted me," Harry said. "Why was he after me when I was only a baby?"

"Alas, I cannot tell you. Not today. Not now. You will know, one day... put it from your mind for now, Harry. When you are older... I know you hate to hear this... when you are ready, you will know."

"But Voldemort is still out there isn't he? He could still come after me?" Harry wasn't quite willing to give up.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore replied. "He is still out there somewhere, perhaps looking for another body to share... not being truly alive, he cannot be killed. Nevertheless, Harry, while you may only have delayed his return to power, it will merely take someone else who is prepared to fight what seems a losing battle next time. And if he is delayed again, and again, why, he may never return to power."

Harry didn't appreciate secret's being kept from him, especially ones that could mean his life or death, but he could tell he wouldn't get more out of Professor Dumbledore than the old man was willing to tell. Giving up for now, Harry would be certain to ask the headmaster that question again some day, Harry asked another question. "Do you know who gave me my father's cloak?"

"Ah," Dumbledore smiled. "Your father happened to leave it in my possession, and I thought you might like it. Useful things... your father used it mainly for sneaking off to the kitchens to steal food when he was here."

"Quirrell told me Snape…"

"Professor Snape Harry," Dumbledore said mildly reprovingly.

Harry bristled at being asked to show respect for someone who had been attacking him all year. "Quirrell said he hated me, because he hated my father. Is that true?"

"Well, they did rather detest each other. Not unlike yourself and Mr. Malfoy. And then, your father did something Snape could never forgive."

"What?" Harry asked eagerly

"He saved his life."

Harry laughed out loud.

"Yes..." Dumbledore said wistfully. "Funny, the way people's minds work, isn't it? Professor Snape couldn't bear being in your father's debt...I do believe he worked so hard to protect you this year because he felt that would make him and your father even. Then he could go back to hating your father's memory in peace..."

"Yes," Harry agreed. Harry was about to thank Dumbledore, but one more thing popped into his head. "How did I get the stone out of the mirror? I never really figured that one out."

"Ah, now, I'm glad you asked me that," Dumbledore smiled. "It was one of my more brilliant ideas, and between you and me, that's saying something. You see, only one who wanted to find the Stone…find it, but not use it…would be able to get it; otherwise they'd just see themselves making gold or drinking Elixir of Life. My brain surprises even me sometimes..."

With that Dumbledore dismissed himself. He took one of Bettie Bott's Every Flavor Beans which turned out to be earwax.

Harry had to beg Madam Pomfrey to allow his friends to visit him. They wanted to hear about what happened after he got into the chamber with Quirrell, so he told them. He didn't hold anything back, so he ended up explaining how he could use his living energy to blast things and promised to show them if they could find a place to do it secretly when he got out.

Harry asked them how they faired when they left and it turned out that after waking up Ron, they didn't have any trouble getting out on the brooms. They met Dumbledore in the Entrance hall. He seemed to know that Harry had gone after Quirrell.

He told them everything Dumbledore and McGonagall had told him. It turned out that after speaking to Harry, Professor McGonagall had apologized to Ron and Hermoine as well.

"So the stone's gone? Flamel is just going to die?" Ron asked.

Harry grinned. "No, that's just what Dumbledore thinks." Harry looked side to side and closed his eyes to help him sense anyone who might be listening. Then he told them about the dragonballs and how once you found all seven you could summon the eternal dragon and make any wish you wanted and he explained that it sounded like the Flamel's asked for eternal youth, so they wouldn't die of natural causes.

"But Dumbledore…" Ron began.

"Ah, let him believe what makes him happy," Harry said. "Besides we don't want to risk Voldemort learning about them. And if he believes the stone is destroyed, he won't be looking for them."

Shortly after that Ron and Hermione were run out of the Hospital Wing having long exceeded the five minutes Madam Pomfrey had agreed to. But they weren't the only visitors Harry had during the two days he was forced to stay in bed.

Neville begged Madam Pomfrey for a few minutes to apologize to Harry. He told Harry that after having Harry stand up for him and call him brave he felt bad trying to stop him.

"You were standing up for what you believed was right. I respect that and like I said…hopefully next time we'll be able to fight on the same side. Look forward to it," Harry told the nearly crying boy.

When Hagrid visited he was crying so badly and so loudly that Harry didn't think he could have heard Madam Pomfrey trying to forbid him from visiting, nor would he have noticed if he'd walked over her. The gamekeeper blamed himself for all the danger Harry had been in. Harry tried to comfort him telling him that everything was all right and that Voldemort would have found a way to the stone even if he hadn't tricked him.

It turned out that Hagrid had a present for Harry. It was a beautiful leather photo album filled with magical moving pictures of his parents. Hagrid had spent the previous day owling all of his birth parents old friends for pictures so he could make it for him. Harry was touched.

After two days of lying around, Harry was finally released from the Hospital Wing. He would have to send Dumbledore a thank you note once he got home, because apparently he had ordered Madam Pomfrey to let him go against her will.

The great hall was filled with green and silver banners with big snakes to celebrate Slytherin's seventh house cup victory in a row. Ron had told Harry that since he was unconscious for the final match Ravenclaw had pounded Gryffindor leaving the House cup to Slytherin.

Everyone seemed to have gotten over their animosity toward Harry and had reverted to staring at him as he entered the great hall. Harry could hear his name being whispered all over the great hall. Fortunately, before Harry could die of embarrassment, Dumbledore arrived and the chatter died down as everyone waited for him to make his speech.

Dumbledore began with the same type of silliness he seemed to usually use when addressing the students. He announced the point spread, which was stood with Gryffindor in forth place with 312 points, Hufflepuff in third with 352 points, Ravenclaw in second 426 points and Slytherin in first place with 472 points.

The Slytherins cheered riotously. Harry tried to remember that he'd been willing to accept the consequences of his actions, but he did not want to see Malfoy reaping the rewards.

"Yes, Yes, well done, Slytherin," Dumbledore said loudly. "However, recent events must be taken into account."

The wind seemed to be taken out of the Slytherin's sails. "I have a few last minute points that need to be awarded."

"First, to Mr. Ronald Weasley…for nobility, conviction and sacrifice along with the best-played game of chess Hogwarts has seen in many years, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Gryffindor's cheering was uproarious. Everyone, but a very embarrassed Ron seemed to be making as much noise as they could.

"Second, to Miss Hermione Granger...for the staying calm in the face of terror and the use of cold logic in the face of fire, I award Gryffindor house fifty points."

Loud cheers filled the hall again as Gryffindor started to cheer. This time Hermione was silent as well with her head buried in her hands.

"Third, to Mr. Harry Potter." When Dumbledore paused the entire hall was quiet. "For pure nerve and outstanding courage, I award Gryffindor house sixty points."

Students at the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables joined Gryffindor in the tumultuous noise of cheering students this time. Those that had added it up knew that Gryffindor and Slytherin were now tied.

Dumbledore raised his hand and waited for the din to die down. "There are all kinds of courage," Dumbledore said. "It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, especially against overwhelming odds. But it takes a special kind of courage to stand up to our friends. I therefore award ten points to Mr. Neville Longbottom."

The great hall erupted with cheering so loud that no one could hear anything else. Neville who had never before won Gryffindor a single point had just won them the house cup. Crowded by people hugging him and slapping him on the back, the boy couldn't hear a single word of their praise through the deafening noise.

"Which if my calculations are correct," Dumbledore barely managed to make himself heard over the storm of applause. "A change of decoration is in order." Dumbledore then clapped his hands and suddenly the giant banners all over the hall changed from green to red, now adorned with Gryffindor's golden lion. Harry laughed when he saw Snape's forced smile as he shook Professor McGonagall's hand. Fortunately the noise prevented the potions professor from hearing him.

As all such nights do, that happy evening came to an end. In all of the excitement Harry had forgotten that grades would be given out. They were the next day. Ron was surprised that he'd made very respectable grades. Harry had outstanding grades in every class except potions. Harry hardly felt it was fair and Snape's bias seemed terribly obvious to him, he hoped his mother would see it that way when she saw the report card with all of his grades on it. Only Hermione was surprised when they found out that Hermione had the best grades of anyone in their year. Even Neville did well, his incredible herbology grade made up for his terrible potions grade. The amazing thing was that even Crabbe and Goyle passed. Harry had hoped they'd the two dumb as a post gorilla's masquerading as boys would fail so he could see what Malfoy would do without his two cronies.

But soon everyone's wardrobes were emptied out into their trunks, some neater than others, and the students were all crowded in the entrance hall trying to get out. They were each handed a note reminding them not to use magic over the summer. Harry grinned when he got his; he knew he'd be doing it anyway. Hagrid took the first years back across the lake in the boats where they were crammed back onto the train.

The three friends whiled away their time talking and laughing with each other for the last time for the next two months. But eventually they had to doff the robes that they'd become so accustomed to for less outlandish vestments in preparation for their arrival at Kings Cross Station.

Once there they had to wait for in line to get off the platform. An elderly guard only let them out in twos and threes to keep from scaring the muggles with a large mass of students walking out of a solid wall. "You must come and stay this summer," Ron said as they approached the wall, "both of you…I'll send you an owl."

Harry smiled. "That would be great, just remember it takes a little while for an owl to get to where I live."

Harry, Ron and Hermione all left through the gateway into muggle London together. He, Ron, and Hermione passed through the gateway together. "There he is, Mom, there he is, look! Harry Potter!" Ron's little sister, Ginny squealed. "Look, Mom! I can see…"

"Be quiet, Ginny, and it's rude to point." Mrs. Weasley scolded her as they approached.

The youngest Weasley's voice wasn't just heard by Harry and his companions. It drew two more people who had been looking for Harry.

"Harry," Gohan, Harry's brother and Sirius, Harry's Godfather called. Harry introduced his friends to brother and his godfather. They were all shocked at how much Harry and Gohan looked alike.

"Well mum wanted us to come straight home," Gohan told everyone, much to Sirius' disappointment.

"All right then," Harry said guiding everyone into an empty waiting room.

"Well good bye everyone," Harry said before placing two fingers to his forehead and silently disappearing in a blur.

Mrs. Weasley stood there in shock, trying to speak, but nothing came out.

"Mum, he's Harry Potter," Ron said as if that explained everything.

* * *

The End of HPDBZ and the Sorcerers' Ball 

Omake:

(Yes, I know I'm putting the traps out of order to facilitate the joke.)

"We've got to go back," Harry voice quavered as they stepped into the dank chamber.

"What about Snape?" Ron asked. "He's already ahead of us."

"We'll have to get him when he comes back. We can't go in there," Harry started to sweat.

"What—why?" Ron asked

"There's something terrible in here."

"What?" Ron and Hermione asked.

"There, I think I see it," Harry pointed into the gloom.

Ron and Hermione squinted into the darkness. "What? Behind the Rabbit?" Ron asked.

Harry was trembling now. "No, it is the rabbit."

"Harry," Hermione scolded, "This is no time for joking."

"Yeah, you got us all worked up," Ron whined.

"I'm serious," Harry told them.

"It's just a cute little bunny," Hermione gushed.

"That's no ordinary rabbit!" Harry said loudly.

"Really," Hermione looked at Harry disapprovingly.

"It's got incredible power, I've never felt anything like it," Harry sounded desperate.

"What can he do, nibble our bums?" Ron asked condescendingly.

"It could kill us, look at the bones—can you smell that there used to be a troll in here…" Harry looked around the room desperately. "Look at that stain on the wall." Harry pointed to their right.

"That's gross Harry," Hermione looked sick.

"It used to be a troll!" Harry sounded hysterical now.

"So?" Hermione couldn't see the point. "That cute little thing couldn't have done that, it must have been Snape."

"Snape isn't powerful enough to do that," Harry answered incredulously. "It had to be the rabbit!"

"Oh, please," Hermione said before she squatted down and started to call the rabbit over to them.

"No don't," Harry warned.

"Just shush you!" Hermione glared at Harry before going back to calling the rabbit over in a sugary sweet voice.

The rabbit-monster squeaked happily and began to hop over to Hermione. As it came closer they could see that it had brown fur, floppy ears and shiny gold cat like eyes.

Hermione picked the supposedly terrible beast up and began to coo at it while cuddling it up to her face. "Are you coming?" she asked the two boys as she walked toward the next door.

Ron looked stunned, but followed immediately, but Ron and Hermione were nearly to the door before Harry finally came out of his stupor and caught up to them.

"I told you that thing was dangerous," Harry smirked triumphantly at Hermione.

"I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione huffed.

"Hermione," Harry was trying to sound patient and failing. "There used to be thirty-two giant stone chess pieces in here."

Ron stood nearly catatonic blubbering about the burnt black giant marble chessboard they were standing on and the beautiful chess pieces while Harry and Hermione argued.

"I don't see anything that could have been chess pieces," Hermione shook her head as if to look again

"Don't you see those piles of ash?" Harry pointed toward the far wall. "That's all that's left of them after that monster sitting on your head incinerated them."

" Ryo is too cute to be a monster and I'm sure she had nothing to do with those chess pieces you think you saw." Hermione sounded like she was addressing a child.

Reaching up to pet the rabbit on her head Hermione started cooing at it again. "You're so cute…yes you are…yes you are…"

Harry looked on morbidly. "It has a name?" he asked.

"Everyone needs a name," Hermione said indignantly. "And Ryo is just a harmless little bunny."

"She meowed like a cat, there was a bright flash of light and the pieces were disintigrated," Harry tried to explain again.

"Rabbits aren't supposed to meow," Ron squeaked out.

"Thank you for that amazing piece of information Mr. Expert Zoologist," Hermione yelled at the still apoplectic Ron before she turned on Harry. "She's just a rabbit!"

"She has the face and front legs of a cat." Harry said calmly. Too worn out to get worked up anymore.

"Ok, so she's a Cabbit," Hermione said as if the issue was now closed.

Harry just shook his head defeated. No longer to form coherent words anymore Ron just stood there making grunting noises.

"So do you think she'll let me do anything?" Harry asked as they stepped into the final room.

"Not the Rabbit!" Voldemort yelled from the back of Professor Quirrell's now turban-less head.

"She hasn't done anything," Hermione ignored everyone but Harry.

"She hasn't done anything?" Harry yelled. "I haven't done anything! That rabbit killed the troll, blasted the chess pieces and blew out the fire, we still don't know what those potions were for?"

"I'm sure she's not trying to steal your thunder." Hermione sighed. Boys could be so impossible some time.

"Confound it Potter," Voldemort screamed. "This is your fault for not killing me all the way last time!"

Seeing that everyone except the rabbit monster on the girl's head was ignoring him Voldemort began to swear profusely. Ron suddenly knew why Voldemort was the most feared dark wizard of all time. Only the most evil being in all creation could use language so foul.

"Hey, there's a lady present!" Ron yelled and drawing his wand cursed the foul evil the world had ever known with the same spell his mother had used on him every time she caught him swearing.

Harry and Hermione continued to argue, oblivious to the dark lord gagging at the taste of the lifebouy soap bubbling out of his mouth. They didn't seem to notice until the soap bubbling out of Voldemort's mouth had filled the chamber up to their ankles with soapy water and Voldemort lie face down in it. Apparently Mrs. Weasley's curse reacted to how foul your language was using more soap to clean the dirtier mouth. Who knew it would spell doom for the dark lord?

They walked back through the various traps sedately, their wet sneakers squeaking. They took brooms from the room with Flitwick's flying keys and flew over the devil's snare, which was now burned black. Hermione insisted she must have forgotten to put out her magical fire before they left on the way in.

When they got to Fluffy's corridor the giant three-headed dog just wimpered in a corner for some reason Hermione couldn't understand. They left the brooms just outside the door and walked back toward their common room, their adventure finally over.

Hermione was rubbing little Ryo between her ears as they walked through the entrance hall when the headmaster stormed into the castle. "What is that?" Professor Dumbledore demanded, staring at the terrible creature in Hermione's arms

"She's a cabbit," Hermione said defensively when Professor Dumbledore pointed his wand at Ryo.

"Don't eat the headmaster's wand, it's not a carrot," Hermione gently scolded her new pet after it had taken a couple of bites out of Dumbledor's wand.

* * *

Author's Note: 

Thank you for reading my story. Most Importantly I intend to rite the sequels starting with Book II tentatively titled the Chamber's Secrets. Though, I will probably post the chapters serially as opposed to all at the same time as I did this one.

I quoted from the books extensively and without annotation just as I said I would. I however fear I may have done too much. Anyone that wishes to express their opinions about that and how tightly I followed the story, please do. As I mentioned the story will get progressively farther from the story with the most important change being the end of the next book. I will try not to take so much dialog from the original story next time.

If this story was too close to the original to be enjoyable, please let me know. I will be trying to diverge more next book and I hope to be able to add even more comedy, particularly with Yajorobi and Lockhart. I hope you will find it compelling enough to read, but if not as I said Book III will be the major turning point and I will start it with a Preface that includes the end of Book II that you will need to understand the major differences.

I hope I don't sound egotistical, but to any returning fans of Hinata's Story, it is NOT abandoned. I will be writing both stories simultaneously. No it shouldn't slow me down significantly. I started writing this story January of 07 and in truth it helped me get out of the slump I was in and get more writing. I find switching between the two helps me keep from getting burnt out of either story and has helped me write Hinata's story faster.


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